


McDanno Snippets

by Kerkerian



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: (Though SEALs don't get sick), Angst, Canon Divergence, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Intimacy, M/M, Old Age, Some are "missing scenes", Some are episode related (see chapter titles), injuries, mcdanno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 19:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 37,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13371744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: This is going to be a collection of mostly short McDanno moments (not necessarily following a consecutive timeline). Each of these can stand alone, some are episode related and will be tagged accordingly.





	1. Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Five-0.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's besotted with Danny.
> 
> (Unashamed fluff.)

 

Steve wants to touch Danny all the time. It's even worse than it used to be, despite the fact that in hindsight, it has been torture to be around Danny so much without being able to touch him other than in ways which could still be considered platonic.

He can hear his inner Kono object to that: “There never was anything _platonic_ about that, boss-man!”

Okay, maybe it wasn't platonic as much as... inconspicuous.

His inner Kono snorts with laughter and is now joined by her cousin, who just grins and raises one eyebrow.

Steve shakes his head: doesn't matter. All that matters is that those times of physical starvation are over, now that Danny and he have finally gotten together. Which albeit creates a whole new set of problems, for example the above-mentioned craving to just wrap himself around his partner and never let go again, except maybe to undress him.

Steve actually begins to miss Danny the minute they get out of the car in the morning. Several times a day he wants to just lock the door to Danny's office from the inside, close the blinds and be alone with him. It's irrational and at the same time wonderful; he has never been so madly, desperately, breathtakingly in love before. He loves everything about Danny, even the way he dresses (though he can never know that), and he's proud that they are a couple now (their team took the news with barely contained mirth and didn't even try to act surprised).

What's best however are their private moments. Sometimes when they are indeed alone and unwatched, they gravitate towards one another for a kiss or two, a hug, a few sweet words. It's the same when they get home, whether it's Steve's house or Danny's: the pull which has been there all day usually still seems to increase as soon as they get out of the car. Sometimes they make it through the door, sometimes they all but rush into each other's arms straight away, not caring what the neighbours might think. Steve can barely remember a time when he didn't feel this giddy and exhilarated.

Getting physically intimate also means getting to know each other better, and differently. Steve can close his eyes and knows just how Danny feels and how he smells and which sounds he makes. It's amazing and it makes Danny even lovelier, if that's at all possible. Of course, they still bicker and sometimes, they drive each other crazy, but at the end of the day, they still sigh with relief to be in each other's company.

The downside of all this is that Steve's worried about Danny all the time now. _All_ the time. He knows that Danny can hold his own, but still- he has lain awake more than once, too insanely happy to drift off, with his hand on Danny's belly, feeling his every breath. He has watched Danny sleep countless times, has made him shiver ever so delicately on numerous occasions. There's an inherent vulnerability in his partner which isn't always visible, but which Steve can't fail to notice during moments like that, and which makes him want to protect Danny even more. They have been faced with so many impossibly dangerous situations by now that Steve has lost count, and it's a miracle they're still alive if one thinks about it. It's easiest _not_ to start thinking about it, but sometimes Steve looks at Danny's slender fingers or the way he flinches whenever Steve drives too recklessly or how his shoulders slump whenever a case concerns a child and can't but wish to shield Danny from all the bad stuff out there.

This is probably how Danny feels about his kids, Steve realizes, and feels like an idiot because all these years he didn't _really_ understand it, couldn't always fully relate to Danny's worries. Well, now he does, and it's another thing which makes him love Danny even more: the way he cares.

“Steve,” Chin says, pulling Steve out of his musings. “You with me?”

“Yeah.” Steve prises his gaze away from Danny, who sits at his desk, and focuses on the screen in front of him. “You were saying?”

Chin grins leniently: “I wasn't saying anything. I asked you if had heard back from CSU yet.”

“Oh.” Steve's ears just about manage not to turn pink. “No, I haven't.”

“Well, I'll give them a call then.”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, his gaze straying towards Danny again. “You do that.”

His thoughts are elsewhere again, and even though a faint voice somewhere in his head tells him that it's unprofessional, he skilfully ignores it. He thinks of the snuffling sounds Danny makes when he's close to waking up, and his heart constricts with longing once more, even though the object of his desire is right there, staring at the screen of his computer with a frown. When he notices that he is being watched, however, Danny looks up, his expression softening. For a moment, they smile at each other as if they're alone in the world.

Steve can't wait to get home.

 

 

 

 


	2. Work Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's being a sissy, really.
> 
> (Banter.)

 

“Ow! _Damn_!”

“Steve?”

“I'm okay... _fuck_ , this hurts!”

“You don't sound- huh. Tell me it's not what it looks like?”

“What _does_ it look like, then? Ow...”

“It looks very much like a paper cut to me.”

“Damn right it's a paper cut! A fucking son of a bitch of a paper cut!”

“I didn't know you were such a Drama Queen, Commander McGarrett.”

“You're grinning now, Danno, but I'll have you know that this- this motherf-”

“Please-”

“...this _blasted_ monster of a paper cut hurts worse than every other injury I've ever had!”

“Huh. That bad?”

“Yes!”

“Really?”

“Yes, I mean it!”

“Okay, come here.”

“Why? What are you-”

“There. All better.”

“Did you just kiss my finger?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. It's a simple bit of magic to make the boo-boo disappear.”

“Danno-”

“Steven?”

“I think it worked.”

“Of course it did!”

“Okay. Next time someone shoots me-”

“Yeah, yeah. I'll most likely be around anyway. Count yourself lucky.”

“Danno-”

“Hm?”

“I do.”

 

 

 


	3. Hard Day's Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luckily, Steve doesn't have to sleep alone.
> 
> (Fluff.)

 

It was past midnight when Steve came home. He had been invited to a formal banquet at the Governor's, an event he hadn't been looking forward to; he was glad it was over. As he closed the front door behind him and reactivated the alarm, he began to loosen his tie, wearily walking up the stairs. Events like that banquet tired him out more effectively than an hour long swim.

The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar; Steve quietly slipped into the room, shed his dress uniform and did his best not to make any noise as he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Danny didn't appear to have heard him when he slid under the covers a few minutes later, as he slept soundly, lying on his left side with his back to Steve. Who felt an overwhelming rush of affection for his partner as he gently snuggled against his back, one arm snaking around his waist. Danny sighed in his sleep and leaned into Steve without waking up. Steve pressed a kiss on Danny's neck, smiling; coming home like this was the best thing after a long day which had ended with having to wear formal attire.

 

Steve woke up lying on his back; Danny was next to him, sleeping on his belly. He didn't stir when Steve got up to go to the bathroom, but when he got back into bed, Danny moved towards him with his eyes barely open and half draped himself over Steve. With a sigh and his nose buried in Steve's neck, he went back to sleep. Steve wrapped his arms around Danny, resting his cheek against his partner's hair, and closed his eyes again. Danny's warm weight and his scent all around Steve were something he never wanted to live without again; he hadn't felt this happy in a very long time.


	4. Mouth of Babes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Danny once more realize what a bright little boy Charlie is.
> 
> (Humour, family, some fluff.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't decided on an exact time but this is probably set during season 7.

 

When Steve came home in the late afternoon, there were two people sleeping on the couch: Danny, who was lying on his back with one of Charlie's favourite books on his chest ( _When Findus Was Little and Disappeared_ ), and Charlie, nestled against his father's side.

Steve paused, wondering if his dad had ever done this with him; he couldn't remember. He wanted Charlie to remember, though, therefore he pulled out his phone, muted the sound and took a few pictures. Gracie had once shown him a large album filled with photos spanning her entire life, and Steve had looked at the pictures of Danny with his newborn daughter and felt bad for his partner because he had missed out on so much concerning his son. In those pictures, Danny had looked much younger and so blissfully happy that it made Steve's heart ache. There were pictures of either Rachel and Danny bathing their baby, of Rachel with a stroller, of Danny and Grace in the snow, of Danny and his dog... Steve once more realized the life Danny had had to give up once Rachel and he split up. Well, Steve knew how it felt to suddenly be bereft of a family, of a home; no surprise that Danny and he understood each other.

As if he had felt Steve's gaze, Charlie stirred. For a moment, he only blinked, then he looked up and, upon seeing Steve, quickly sat up.

Steve put one finger over his mouth to signal the little boy not to wake his dad: “Hey, buddy,” he whispered. “Wanna go down to the beach?”

Charlie nodded, grinning broadly, and Steve reached out to lift him up. Quietly, they went out of the back door, where Steve put the boy down: “Did you grow again, Charlie? Seriously, you gotta stop growing so fast, you'll be towering over the rest of us soon if you keep this up!”

Charlie giggled: “Danno's not as tall as you!”

Steve couldn't but grin: “That's right, he isn't, but who knows how tall _you_ 'll be one day!”

“Taller than a house!”

“At the least! For now, let's remember to measure you tonight, okay?”

Ever since Danny had moved in with Steve, they had begun to mark Charlie's growth on the frame of the bathroom door every month.

“Okay. Race you!” With that, Charlie took off. Steve followed him, pretending to almost catch up but still only coming in second once they reached the water's edge.

 

Danny found them splashing around in the shallow water when he joined them outside half an hour later. He smiled, marvelling at the fact that they had become a family so easily.

“Danno!” Charlie threw himself at him, nearly bowling him over; Danny didn't care that he got wet as long as his little boy was so happy to see him. He held him tightly for a moment, then released him with a kiss on his cheek.

Steve and he looked at each other, smiling.

“You're being cute!” Charlie said, effectively ending the nonverbal conversation between them.

Danny blinked: “Excuse me?”

Charlie grinned: “Grace said it's cute that you're always making goo-goo eyes at each other these days.”

Steve didn't dare to look at Danny right then because he'd have burst into laughter.

Danny actually flushed: “Your sister and I are going to have to talk about appropriate conversation topics for little brothers.”

“But she didn't tell me that,” Charlie said, frowning. “She was talking to Will when I wasn't listening.”

Seriously, Steve thought he was going to explode.

“But you _were_ listening.”

“Accidentally.”

Steve turned away, his whole body shaking with silent laughter; he really needed to write this down later for the album he was going to make.

Danny shook his head, trying his best to keep a straight face: “Charlie- it's not okay to listen in on other people's conversations, okay?”

Charlie nodded a little sheepishly: “Okay, Danno.”

Danny knelt down in front of him: “Okay. What do you say if we keep this between us? I won't tell Grace if you won't.”

Charlie nodded once more, smiling: “But can I tell her that you were making goo-goo eyes?”

There was a loud splash.

When they turned around, they found that Steve had plunged into the water, clothes and all.

“Danno? Why did he do that?”

“I have no idea. Why don't you ask him when he comes back from his little swim?”

“Okay. Can I swim in my clothes too?”

“No.”

“So can I tell Grace-”

“You know what, Charlie?”

“Hm?”

“You can tell her. It probably won't have been the last time.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. There For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's had a nightmare.
> 
> (Fluff.)

 

Danny woke up because someone was talking. Steve, he realized after a bemused few seconds. Steve, who was currently holding Danny in a vice-like grip.

“I love you,” he kept repeating, mouth near Danny's ear, voice brittle. “I love you.”

“Steve?” Danny asked drowsily. “What's wrong?”

For a moment, Steve froze, then he reinforced his hold on his partner even more: “I'm sorry to wake you.”

“It's okay,” Danny tried to move so he could see the other's face, but Steve was too strong: “Babe, I need to breathe.”

Steve immediately relinquished his grip a little, allowing Danny to turn around. He wound one arm around Steve while his free hand found his partner's face; his skin was damp, and Steve was trembling.

“What's wrong, babe?” Danny asked again, softly, caressing Steve's cheek with his thumb.

When Steve looked at him, Danny could see, even in the semi-darkness of the early morning, that Steve's eyes were wide and bloodshot: he looked terrified. Another nightmare, then. They didn't happen as frequently anymore; after Steve had been abducted by and killed Wo Fat, they hadn't made it through a single night without waking up at least once. It had eventually gotten better, but Steve, much as he tried to make the world to believe that he was tough as nails and utterly imperturbable, had a much softer heart than he'd liked to admit. He didn't like to show it whenever something was bothering him, but sometimes, his subconscious betrayed his emotions. Just as it had done now.

“You're okay,” Danny said in a low voice, his hand rubbing gentle circles on Steve's back. “Just a dream.”

“It's not about me,” Steve breathed, and Danny understood. “But we're both okay, babe,” he murmured, pulling Steve closer again.

Steve could still feel the dread though, felt it like a solid, menacing presence behind him which was making his hair stand on end; he couldn't even remember what the dream had been about, but he was certain that it had involved Danny.

Who now nuzzled his partner's hair with his nose: “You can't get rid of me so easily, I thought you'd realized that by now.”

Steve however thought about how often it had been really close already, and shivered. Whereas he never questioned his job during broad daylight, it was difficult to shake off the demons after waking from a bad dream. Without Danny and the safety his presence provided, Steve would have gotten up now, would have avoided going back to sleep altogether.

"Just promise me you won't leave me," Steve all but whispered. The 'like everyone else did' was implied, but Danny didn't need to hear it to know where this was coming from.

"I'll do my best," he said, kissing Steve's hair: "Once your backup, always your backup, didn't you know?"

“I love you,” Steve muttered into the hollow of Danny's neck.

“I love you too, babe,” Danny said softly, stroking Steve's back. "And I can't imagine life without you anymore, crazy as that sounds."

Steve closed his eyes and inhaled the other's scent, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart: "Not crazy," he muttered. "Danno." Soon, the trembling abated and Steve's own heart stopped racing.

Danny's hand on Steve's back slowed down and eventually came to a stop as Steve's breathing evened out; it didn't take long for both of them to doze off again.

 

 


	6. Skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny's amazing and Steve's a putz...
> 
> (humour, banter)

Steve had held Danny in high esteem ever since they had first worked together. He knew that people sometimes tended to underestimate his partner (both, ironically, due to his calm, unflustered appearance on the one hand and his often visible irritation on the other). But Danny knew what he was doing, he was good at his job and a decent human being. More importantly still, he was an amazing friend. He was loyal and honest and utterly reliable.

Steve thought he knew Danny well even before their relationship had slowly but steadily turned into more than just being friends, but he was learning new things about him all the time. Such as now as Steve tried to coax Gracie's hair into two French braids. So far, he had succeeded in creating something one might call 'interesting-looking' but which also might make Gracie the laughing stock of her entire school. Damn it, Steve thought, only just managing not to swear out loud, the individual strands of hair were so soft and flimsy that they kept slipping out of his grip. How did Danny do it? And why did Danny have to volunteer to accompany Charlie's class on its field trip today, leaving Steve with an impossible task that required at least ten additional fingers?

“I'm sorry,” Steve said after the fifth try, “I can't do it.”

Gracie, who had been pulling a very sceptical face already, met his gaze in the mirror with ill-conceiled relief: “It's okay. I can just wear a ponytail, Uncle Steve.”

“Okay, _that_ I might be able to do.”

“I can do it myself, Ponytails are easy,” Gracie said, smiling at him: “Thanks for trying.”

 

After dropping Grace off at school, Steve sent Danny a text: _I marvel at you, Danno_.

It took a while until he got an answer, since Danny was probably busy: _Any particular reason or are you just missing me?_

Steve smiled as he typed: _That too. And because of your many skills. Such as braiding Gracie's hair._

_\- You mocking me?_

_I wouldn't dare_.

_\- You're mocking me, McGarrett._

_I really ain't! Love you, Danno (a.k.a. Mr Magic Hands)!_

_-Just wait till I get home!_

Steve grinned: _Can't wait,_ MMH!

_-Putz..._

 

 

 


	7. Aftermath (S02e10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's in the hospital after the events of S02e10 ("Kiʻilua"/"Deceiver"). "Missing scenes" from the episode.
> 
> (Hurt/Comfort, dealing with the issue, bit of closure, bit of fluff.)

 

Steve blinks, for a moment wondering why he's floating, but then he moves, and even though it's only fractionally, his body reminds him what has happened. It's because of Jenna Kaye and Wo Fat that he's in the hospital feeling as though someone put a battering ram to him. He blinks again and notices a person in the periphery of his vision; when he turns his head a little, he recognizes Joe, who has been sitting in a chair by the bed and is now getting to his feet to press the call button.

“Hello, son,” he says, smiling as he regards Steve.

“Joe,” Steve croaks; his throat is dry. “How long-”

“A day and a half,” Joe replies, anticipating the question. “You were out like a light before we even touched down at the airfield.”

“'s bad?”

“You've been rather lucky, considering. Fractured ribs, a hairline crack in your left cheekbone, concussion, a few burns, a whole lot of contusions. Nothing life-threatening though.” He smiles again. “They're probably going to keep you here for a while.”

Steve hums; at the moment, he doesn't really care, he feels so tired.

“Thanks for getting me out,” he mutters.

“Don't thank me,” Joe replies, “thank him.” He nods towards the other side of the bed; Steve hadn't even noticed it but there was another chair, in which Danny is currently sleeping in a position which doesn't exactly look comfortable.

“Danny had a bad feeling about the whole operation,” Joe now explains. “And when Jenna Kaye's name came up during the current investigation, he contacted me. We devised a plan and your whole team volunteered, even though they knew the risks.”

“Ohana,” Steve mumbles proudly.

Joe nods: “Yes, indeed. And they were all truly worried about you. But your boy here...” He glances at Danny. “He would have done it on his own if he'd had to. He really cares about you. Hasn't left your side except for a quick shower and change of clothes.”

Steve regards Danny fondly from under half closed lids: “He's something else,” he says softly, suddenly missing Danny intently even though he's right there; they have begun dating just shortly before this whole mess, and he can still feel their first kiss, still has Danny's scent in his nose. He wonders if Joe knows about them.

“Yeah”, Joe now nods. “And he'll be glad you're awake now. You came to a few times before but you weren't lucid at all; Danny didn't take it well.”

“He's a worrier.”

“Maybe,” Joe smiles again, “but he's also very loyal, among other things.”

 

They are interrupted by the nurse who comes to check on Steve; her voice rouses Danny, who sits up and winces at the crick in his neck. He and Joe have to wait outside; Danny leans against the wall and tries to blink the grit away while Joe disappears to find coffee. He hasn't come back yet when Danny is allowed back into the room, so Danny marches straight up to the bed and stares at Steve: “You're an idiot.”

Steve raises an eyebrow and winces minutely because his whole face is aching: “Why, Danno, I'm touched!”

Danny shakes his head: “Next time someone asks you to go on a suicide mission with them, you'll say no! I know you think that you're the most dangerous thing out there, but let me tell you what a stupid idea it was to go on a two-person operation like this, just in case you haven't realized it yourself yet: it was a _super_ stupid idea, Steven!”

“I know, Danny,” Steve says quietly.

Danny visibly deflates because Steve sounded very distraught right now: “Jenna,” he breathes.

Steve blinks: “I trusted her,” he murmurs. “She saved your life. I didn't have any reason not to believe her.”

Danny nods, looking around the room: “We had to leave her there,” he says softly. “I hate that. Despite everything, she doesn't deserve it.”

Steve closes his eyes for a moment: “No,” he agrees, “she doesn't.”

Danny looks back at him, then he slowly reaches over the bed railing and takes Steve's hand in his: “I'm glad you're alive,” he murmurs, squeezing Steve's hand.

Steve squeezes back: “So I'm not an idiot?”

“Oh, you are an idiot. A big, goofy Neanderthal putz of an idiot.” Danny smiles a bit. “But it so happens that I can't live without you.”

Steve ignores his aching muscles and his ribs and pulls Danny closer until their faces nearly touch.

“Won't it hurt if I kiss you?” Danny asks softly.

“I'll risk it,” Steve hums.

Joe, who was about to enter with two mugs of coffee, quickly backs out of the room again so as not to disturb them. He smiles to himself; it was only a matter of time, really, and he's glad that they've finally taken the next step and stopped dancing around each other.

 

Later, when Steve is sleeping again and Joe has left, Danny sits back down in the chair. He is beyond tired but he can't bring himself to leave. He is certain that he'll never forget the tremendous rush of adrenaline when he finally found Steve in the back of that truck, the rapid succession of weak knees, wild joy, concern, anger and love he felt as he climbed onto the truck bed and began to untie the rope which was binding Steve's hands. He felt himself shaking with a mixture of rage and relief as he beheld his partner: Steve looked terrible and there was too much blood altogether. Danny can't even remember what he said during those first few moments before Chin was there as well, he only knows how he pulled Steve into his arms as soon as the ropes had come off, and how Steve was trembling as well, was pressing his face into Danny's shirt and gave a deep, shuddering sigh of relief.

Even now, Danny can feel the dread of not knowing if Steve was even still alive, and he still has no idea what he had done if his partner had been killed as well. The prospect of not having Steve in his life is as unimaginable as a life without his daughter. Danny shudders, feeling cold all a sudden. In hindsight, he feels a little guilty because he hadn't allowed himself to think about consequences at the time, he only knew that they had to get to Steve no matter what. When Joe said they'd either come back with Steve or not at all, he had forbidden himself to think about Grace. Which is stupid as he considers it now; he hadn't even said goodbye (since no one outside their group knew about the operation anyway).

He can't afford to be this reckless where his daughter is concerned, which is also one of the reasons why he was so angry with Steve earlier. Steve and he have become an item long before they even started dating; whatever is going on in Steve's life is concerning Danny as well, and vice versa. So it hadn't been a surprise how things turned out this time, and Danny is aware that he'd do it all again, but still. The feeling of guilt remains. Maybe he should make a contingency plan. Write a letter to Grace just in case. But what does one write 'in case'? He sighs, sliding down in the chair a bit and trying to get comfortable; he'll think about it. Steve and he, that's something fixed now, and even though one can never be sure Danny is certain that they'll keep what they have.

 

When Steve wakes up the next time, Joe is there again.

“Where's Danny?” Steve asks, since the other chair is empty.

“I brought reinforcements,” Joe says, an amused twinkle in his eyes. “Between Kamekona and me we managed to convince Danny that he needs to sleep for a bit, so Kamekona is taking him home.”

“Good,” Steve replies though a small part of him is irrationally disappointed; he can't be selfish, after all, and Danny had been visibly exhausted earlier. “Thank you, Joe.”

“Just looking out for you; I promised your dad, after all.” Joe raises his eyebrows: “And that includes those who are closest to you.”

Steve can't but grin, even though that hurts: “You know, don't you.”

“Let's say I had a hunch even before I got the hard evidence.”

“I ain't even gonna ask,” Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

Joe smiles: “John would like him,” he then says quietly.

Steve thinks of his father and of Danny and knows that Joe is right. Immediately, he misses Danny again, wishing he was here.

“Danny's the best thing which happened to me after I came back to Hawaii,” he says in an equally low voice.

Joe's still smiling: “I'm glad that you two ran into each other.”

“Did I tell you how we met?”

“No.”

“Well... I was in the garage...”

 

Danny comes back in the evening, looking better now that he's rested a bit. He leans over the bed to kiss Steve and is surprised when his partner brings up his arms around him and holds him as tightly as the IV line and his battered shoulders allow: “You okay, babe?” Danny asks.

“Yeah,” is Steve's muffled reply. “Now I am.”

 

 


	8. Stronghold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny's a bit overwhelmed. Fortunately, Steve's exactly what he needs.
> 
> (Bit of hurt/comfort. Fluff!)

 

Steve was staring into the Marquis' engine bay with a steep frown when he heard the Camaro outside. He shook his head, put the bonnet down and wiped his hands on a rag; since he couldn't figure the problem out on his own this time, he'd need to ask his pal Lono at the garage to have a look anyway.

Danny had just entered the living room through the front door and kicked off his shoes as Steve came in; he immediately noticed that his partner looked pale and tired even before Danny wordlessly walked straight into Steve's arms and rested his head against his sternum.

“Hi,” Steve said softly against Danny's hair. “You okay?” Danny had spent the day with Charlie and Grace, and he wasn't usually that weary afterwards.

“Headache,” came the equally soft reply.

“Too much sun?” Steve asked, though he had an inkling where it was coming from. The kids were going to visit their grandparents with Rachel for two weeks, their flight leaving very early on the following morning.

“Don't think so,” Danny's voice was brittle, but he didn't elaborate. He didn't have to either; Steve knew that he never coped well with the prospect of a prolonged separation from his children.

“Why don't you go upstairs,” he said gently, “and lie down. I'll get you something to drink and be right with you.”

Danny hummed gratefully and padded towards the stairs. He was lying facedown on the mattress when Steve came in a few minutes later, a large glass with iced tea in his hand. He put it on the nightstand and sat down next to Danny: “Hey buddy,” he said, rubbing his hands over his back; he was tense, as Steve had expected. Probably where the headache came from: Danny was worrying about all the things which might happen to Grace and Charlie, no matter how improbable.

Danny slowly turned towards Steve now: “Stay with me?” he asked in that brittle voice from earlier. He was squinting, a reliable indicator that the headache wasn't only a slight one.

“Of course.” Steve bent down and gently kissed Danny: “I brought you iced tea. Do you want some painkillers?”

“No,” Danny sat up with measured movements and took the glass: “Thank you,” he murmured. “I think I'll try to sleep.”

“Okay.” Steve closed the curtains and slid out of his flip-flops. Then he crawled onto the mattress without letting go of Danny, who burrowed into his partner with a relieved sigh. Steve closed his arms around him and just held him tightly for a while, inhaling his scent and relishing in the amazing feeling of his warm weight.

He hadn't been used to physical comfort anymore before Danny and he got together, and now he didn't think he could imagine living without it ever again. Their line of work was demanding on so many levels, but the nastiness they often encountered, the downright evil things humans were capable of, sometimes were worst. There were days on which they came home so mentally weary that they didn't want to talk at all, and Steve found that those were much easier to cope with when you could simply snuggle up with your significant other, feel their strength and generally the solid reassurance of another person's body. It was amazing really how sometimes they only needed each other. Apart from that, he loved to listen to Danny's breathing and his heartbeat, to be completely wrapped around him and vice versa; his warmth and scent and proportions were wonderfully familiar by now. They had always sought physical contact, but a hand on someone's shoulder or a brief hug weren't the same, of course. He smiled, grateful that things had turned out the way they had.

Tenderly, he nosed Danny's forehead: “Want me to rub your neck for a bit?” he asked softly.

“Yes, please.” Danny's slightly muffled voice still sounded strained, but as Steve's fingers found his neck, applying gentle pressure, the tension in his body eventually began to subside.

When Steve was certain that Danny had dozed off, he very cautiously slid down the pillows a little, keeping his firm grip on his partner, and closed his eyes as well. Another thing this relationship had taught him was that it was okay to take matters slowly, that one didn't have to be always on the go but was allowed to just do or not do whatever one liked. That time spent sleeping wasn't wasted.

Steve reinforced his grip around Danny, pressing a kiss on his nose and sighing contentedly; he really was one lucky bastard.

 

 


	9. Loopy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's had some minor surgery. Danny's there after he's woken up- as is a nurse!
> 
> (Humour, some fluff.)

 

Danny has been waiting for a few hours when a nurse informs him that the surgery went well, Commander McGarrett has already regained consciousness and was therefore moved to the ward. It was a routine procedure and nothing too complicated, for which Danny is grateful, but trust Steve to get his leg kicked hard by a criminal and for that injury to result in a cyst which then had to be removed surgically.

“He's asked for you,” the nurse now says pointedly and something about her tone is strange. Danny however doesn't heed it; he's just glad that Steve's okay.

He seems more than okay however, because he starts beaming as Danny and the nurse come in: “Look at my boy,” he says; his speech is still a little slurred. “What did I tell you? Isn't he beautiful? Have you seen him smile- give us a smile, Danno, will you?”

_Oh God_. The smile Danny gives the nurse is apologetic at the most: “I'm sorry,” he says under his breath. “He's never done that before.”

While the nurse reassures him that the anesthetics can have these aftereffects as long as they're still in the patient's system, Steve is regarding his partner happily: “I'm just so glad that you're here, baby,” he says, and Danny's got the impression that the nurse, who is now leaving the room, is trying very hard not to grin.

Shaking his head, Danny moves closer to the bed, taking Steve's hand: “You're totally loopy, babe,” he says.

Steve is beaming again: “ _Totally_ ,” he agrees, “and all because of you!”

Danny, aware that there's no point in disagreeing and that Steve very likely won't remember this later anyway, decides that it's easier to go along with the drug-induced euphoria; for once, it's not Steve's fault, after all.

He takes Steve's hand, gently stroking his partner's skin with his thumb: “Because of me?”

Steve blinks: “Course! You make my heart sing, Danno! You know, like in that song...”

Danny is ever so glad that the nurse has left. And that Steve doesn't begin to sing.

“Wow, that's... quite a compliment.”

“It's the truth,” Steve replies brightly. “You're a wonderful person and I love you more than anything.”

Admittedly, he's adorable when he's like this. Which usually only happens after a few drinks.

Danny smiles: “Thank you. I can say the same about you. Though you're crazy even without the drugs.”

Steve grins, but it looks as though he's beginning to fade: “Love you so much, Danno...”

“Love you too, babe,” Danny replies tenderly, leaning over the railing to kiss Steve. “Go back to sleep, okay? I'll be here.”

Steve blinks again: “Beautiful,” he murmurs, but eventually he closes his eyes.

 

When the nurse comes back in half an hour later, Danny is still standing by the bed, watching Steve sleep.

_Commander McGarrett's right_ , she thinks, once more trying hard not to grin: _he really does have a nice tushie_!

 

 


	10. Every Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why Eddie the dog doesn't sleep in the living room anymore.
> 
> (humour, some fluff)

 

Of course they are keeping the dog. Danny probably knew it before Steve, who still considers himself more of a cat person but who nevertheless succumbed to Eddie's charm at record speed. Maybe he sees a kindred spirit in him, maybe he's just feeling sorry for the little guy- Danny doesn't care about the exact reason because he's been living without a dog for too long now and Eddie needs a home.

Understandably, Eddie takes some time to settle in. During the day, he keeps close to his new humans. As soon as his injury's healed, Steve takes him along for his morning swim, which he seems to enjoy. And even though Danny and he agreed not to spoil the dog, both of them have brought home new toys for him: a frisbee, a ball, a floating fetch stick, all of which are now littering the garden.

The nights are difficult at first. They've put Eddie's dog bed into the living room, but he keeps walking around the house, lying down for a few minutes here and there but never staying in one place for long.

 

In the third week, after listening to the soft sounds of Eddie's seemingly aimless wandering for a while, Danny sits up: “This has to stop,” he says, getting up.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks drowsily.

Danny doesn't answer since he's already halfway down the stairs.

Eddie is standing by the coffee table, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. He wags his tail as Danny kneels down in front of him: “Hey, Buddy,” he says softly, stroking over the dog's velvety ears. Eddie gratefully nuzzles his hand, making Danny smile: what gentle souls dogs are. And how easily scared.

“Come on,” he says. “We'll take your bed upstairs, okay?” He gets up and takes the dog bed. At the stairs, he turns around: Eddie is still standing where he was before.

“Come on, Buddy,” Danny motions towards the stairs with his head; he's already reached the upper landing when he finally hears the dog following him.

Steve is sitting on the edge of the mattress: “Hey, Buddy,” he says, and the dog greets him enthusiastically. After a moment of deliberation, Danny puts Eddie's bed down between their bed and the wall; he wants the dog to feel safe.

Steve just looks at Danny with a complacent smile: “I knew you'd cave first.”

“Excuse me, _cave_? This isn't caving, this is showing compassion. And it's not like I've invited him to jump on the bed.”

Steve just grins: “We'll see about that.” They have agreed, apart from not wanting to spoil the dog, that he won't be allowed in the bed or on the couch. Too much hair everywhere, and besides, Eddie's used to sleeping in the living room anyway.

“And we'll need some privacy from time to time, right?” Steve had asked, pulling Danny close for a kiss. Now he looks at the dog bed and Eddie, who is sniffing around the room: “So much for keeping our privacy.” He scratches his head: “What if we want to-”

“Shshsh! Not in front of him!”

“Danno-”

“Don't Danno me, Steve. You've never had a dog, so you don't know it, but they actually understand every word.”

“ _Every_ word, really? You're right, I didn't know that.”

“Well, you can learn a thing or two from me.”

“Yeah... So... what if we want to you-know-what?”

Danny shrugs: “We can always send him out.”

“That seems a bit cruel,” Steve objects. “And it'll kill the mood.”

“Stop overthinking it, Babe. That's my job.” Danny turns towards the dog: “Lie down, Eddie.”

Eddie just looks at him, so he kneels down next to Eddie's bed and pats it: “Come on, Baby.” And Eddie, hesitantly at first, comes and curls up in it, yawning widely. Danny kisses him: “You're such a good boy. Now sleep well, okay?” Then he returns to his own bed.

Steve snuggles against him, wrapping his arm around Danny's midriff: “I love you, did I ever tell you that?”

Danny leans back against Steve's solid warmth: “No, I don't think so...”

Gently, Steve bites into his partner's ear: “Love you, Danno.”

Danny sighs: “Love you too, Babe. G'night.”

“Night.”

 

Five minutes later, Eddie gets up and stands in front of the bed, wagging his tail.

“I told you he wants to sleep on our bed,” Steve murmurs.

“He isn't gonna,” Danny replies drowsily. “Go lie down, Eddie.”

Eddie, realizing that no invitation is forthcoming, lies down again.

 

Another five minutes later, Eddie gets up again and resumes his former position.

“I think he's smiling,” Danny mutters.

“Do you think he needs to pee?”

“Nah. He'd be standing by the door.”

“'kay. Go lie down, Eddie,” Steve says.

Eddie obeys.

 

“What about cats?” Steve asks just as Danny is about to doze off.

“What about them?”

“Do they understand every word as well?”

“They do, but they think we're stupid, so they aren't listening most of the time.”

“Huh...”

“Can I sleep now, please?”

“Okay. I'm gonna ask you about the other animals tomorrow.”

The only answer he gets is a soft groan.

 

On the following morning, Steve wakes up with Danny half draped over his torso, breathing quietly against his throat, one leg hooked around Steve's. He smiles with his eyes still closed and makes to turn towards his partner, but something's odd: there's an unfamiliar weight on his lower legs. Steve opens his eyes to find Eddie lying on top of the sheet, sprawled out in all his glory.

Steve sighs but can't find it in him to really mind, especially when Eddie, apparently sensing that he's being watched, opens one eye and peers at Steve, all innocence.

“Hey, Buddy,” Steve whispers, at which Eddie briefly wags his tail in acknowledgement. “You're so clever, ain't you?”

Danny gives a soft groan: “'s up?”

Steve grins: “Turns out that Eddie indeed doesn't give up so easily.”

Groggily, Danny lifts his head, squints at Steve, then at Eddie, and lies back down: “He played us.”

Eddie contentedly closes his eyes again: it's not his fault after all when, after asking nicely for the third time, no one told him to go lie down again.

 

One week later, Danny and Steve agree that it's okay if Eddie sleeps on the bed because neither of them actually minds, but (because they don't want to spoil him) that he really shouldn't be allowed on the couch.

Eddie, who of course understands every word, just smiles at that.

 

 

 

 


	11. Radiation sickness (S07e25)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This picks up immediately after Steve told Danny about the radiation poisoning in S07Ep25 "Ua Mau Ke Ea O Ka Aina I Ka Pono"/"The Life of the Land is Perpetuated in Righteousness", but deviates from canon, of course.
> 
> (Angst, emotional h/c, some fluff, some humour.)

 

 

Danny barely hears Charlie's voice as the boy tells him that he did wash his hands with soap, as told. Once he's back in the kitchen, alone, he just leans against the counter top and stares ahead unseeingly while the term 'radiation poisoning' keeps echoing around his mind. Why didn't Steve say something? How are they going to proceed? Why didn't he press the point when they were at Dr. Kohashi's together a few months ago?

He feels numb with fear all of a sudden, and it takes a while until he is able to shake himself out of it; he can't let anyone notice that something's off, it's obviously not what Steve wants and it's Jerry's party anyway. So he continues to prepare the food, albeit on auto pilot.

When he puts Charlie to bed some time later, it is a real effort to keep his composure though; while he's reading to him, he barely has his voice under control, and afterwards he's very glad when the party comes to an end at one point.

Silently, he and Steve clear the rest of the food and the dishes away; Danny's feels as though his shoulders are weighed down with lead. It's only once they've gone to bed and are lying under the covers wrapped around each other that Danny finds his voice: “Why didn't you tell me straight away?” he asks softly.

Steve, who's burrowed into Danny's arms with his head tucked under his chin, hesitates: “I didn't want you to worry.”

Danny's heart clenches at that: “So you thought you'd deal with it on your own?”

“Yeah, I... I didn't think it'd be so bad.”

“And how did that turn out?”

Steve sighs: “It's bad,” he admits. “It's damn scary.”

Danny tenderly nuzzles his forehead: “That's what you got me for, Babe,” he murmurs. “You don't have to go through any of this alone, you hear me?”

“Yes,” Steve replies quietly. “I do. I'm sorry, Danno.”

“It's alright.” Danny kisses his hair, seeking to reassure him: “Through thick and thin, huh?”

Instead of an answer, Steve presses himself even closer against him, and Danny gently reinforces his grip around him; the notion that Steve might be seriously ill is incomprehensible.

They are both too tired to talk about everything else which needs to be discussed; for now, they just cling to each other, despondently and down with sorrow.

 

Danny must have dozed off because the next thing he knows is Charlie's voice calling for him. He does that sometimes when he wakes up in the night, too scared to get up in the dark, so he just shouts his father's name until Danny wakes up. Groggily, Danny disentangles himself from Steve and pads over to Charlie's room: “Hey, Squirrel, what is it?”

“I woke up and now I can't sleep.” Charlie's voice is thin and he immediately climbs onto Danny's lap as he sits down on the bed. “Can I sleep in your bed, Danno?”

Danny hugs him close, once more amazed by the amount of comfort this little guy provides: “Yes, you can. Do you have Rolie?”

Charlie holds his stuffed elephant up for an answer.

“Okay. Come on.” Danny gets up, settles his son on his hip and returns to the bedroom.

“Hey, Charlie,” Steve slurs as the boy crawls under the covers, “everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Charlie yawns widely; the dark night apparently isn't so threatening in here. “I couldn't sleep.”

“'kay. You sleep well now, Buddy...”

“You too, Stevie.”

Steve's not entirely awake, but he chuckles softly; no one really kept track when Charlie began calling him 'Stevie' but it seems to be more than just a phase; admittedly though, both he and Steve call Grace 'Gracie', and Charlie, whose own nickname ends on 'ie' after all, seems to only use this particular ending for people (and stuffed animals) who are very important to him- 'Danno' obviously being the exception.

Once Charlie's snuggled up against him, Danny puts an arm around him: “Sleep well, Squirrel.”

“G'night, Danno,” Charlie whispers. He's asleep within minutes.

Steve reaches for Danny's hand, holding it tightly until he drifts off again. Danny gently caresses Steve's skin with his thumb, listening to his and Charlie's steady breathing; it takes a long time for him to doze off again.

 

On the following morning, Steve doesn’t feel well enough to get up at first; after convincing a puzzled Charlie that Steve’ll be okay once he’s slept some more, Danny takes his son downstairs and makes breakfast for him and some coffee for himself. He then cuts up some ginger and makes a tea for Steve because he knows he likes it and thinks it’s pure magic for almost any ailments. He also finds some lightly salted crackers and takes those and the tea upstairs once Charlie’s done with his cereal and has gone to play with his race cars on the lanai.

Steve’s curled up on his side but he’s awake, blinking at Danny as he puts the mug and plate on the nightstand and sits down on the edge of the mattress: “How’re you feeling?”

Steve smiles feebly: “I just threw up. So how do I look?”

Point taken, Danny thinks. Steve’s pale and his skin is damp. Gently, Danny runs his fingers through his hair: “Gorgeous, as usual,” he says quietly, eliciting an amused snort from his partner: “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Danny doesn’t feel like joking, on the contrary. His hand finds Steve’s and he squeezes it, and Steve quickly swallows the sarcastic reply he’s got at the ready when he sees Danny’s serious expression.

“Hey,” he says softly. “I’m not dying. And I've got Rolie.” He indicates the elephant which Charlie left with him 'for protection'.

Danny gives him a small smile: "I know. It’s just… I’m so sorry about this.”

Steve squeezes his hand: “Nothing to be sorry for.”

Danny refrains from saying that it could have been he who defused the bomb, he who’d have sustained the radiation poisoning instead of Steve. He doesn’t though; neither of them is up to a discussion, after all, and a small part of him is aware that it'd be pointless anyway. They can't change what's already been done. So he just sits with Steve for a while lending moral support at least until Charlie shouts that his best car has crashed through the railing and he needs help finding it. Steve and Danny can't but smile at that.

 

Around noon, Steve is finally feeling better. He takes a shower, then goes downstairs. Danny, who has cleared away the last remnants of the party, is sitting outside with Charlie, drawing with crayons.

“Oh,” Steve says, leaning over his shoulder to look at his partner's picture, “that's a lovely hippo, Danno.”

Charlie laughs as Danny shakes his head: “Excuse me? That's not a hippo, it's a dog!”

Steve narrows his eyes: “It think it looks like a thin hippo.”

“I think maybe you need glasses.”

“I'm sorry, but it looks like a thin hippo to me!”

“There are no thin hippos.”

“Yes, there are, I'm looking at one.”

Charlie is now laughing so hard that he nearly falls off his chair.

Steve catches him: “I put Rolie back on your bed, okay? Thank you for letting him stay with me.”

“Did he make you better?” Charlie asks solemnly.

Steve nods: “Yeah. It's his special power, isn't it?”

Charlie nods; he got Rolie when he was in the hospital for the bone marrow transplant.

“Can you draw me a picture of him?” he asks.

Steve shrugs: “I can try. I'm actually better at drawings ships.”

Charlie watches attentively as Steve draws.

Danny grins: “He said 'Rolie', not 'cow with trunk'.”

Steve ignores him, but in the end, Charlie agrees with his dad that it does look a bit like a cow with a trunk. It doesn't matter though; they're having a good time teasing each other, Charlie is obviously enjoying himself, and this here, this bit of normality is just what he needs. He puts the crayon down and looks at Danny who catches his glance and smiles just so with the corners of his mouth, and Steve feels that his heart is full to the brim with love and gratefulness. For such a long time, he thought that he'd never have something like this, and now here they are. Who knows what else is not as impossible as he thinks it is.

“Let's not worry too much,” he therefore quietly tells Danny while they're cutting up vegetables for lunch. “It'll be okay.”

Danny doesn't let on if he's convinced or not, but after a moment he nods: “Okay. Stevie.”

Steve rolls his eyes: “It's different when Charlie does it, you know?”

“Oh, is it? What have I been telling you about being called 'Danno' for years?”

“What are you talking about? That's hardly the same...”

“It is! It is the same!”

“'Danno' is cute! 'Stevie' sounds... deranged.”

“Huh...”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

 

Steve is lying awake that night after they have gone to bed and Danny has fallen asleep in his arms, tired out after an afternoon in the water with Charlie. His hair still faintly smells of salt, as does his skin, or maybe Steve is imagining it. He presses closer against his partner, amazed by how good his body feels against his own, and tries not to think about the future. He wants this to last, he doesn't want to think about treatment and hospitals and being ill. He hates how this isn't something he can simply tough out. But maybe, just maybe, he'll be the first male McGarrett who will die of old age after all. Of course, given his line of work, that's somehow unlikely anyway, but one can hope.

He reinforces his grip around Danny, running his hand along his bare arm: he knows him well enough to be aware that Danny can't not worry, but he's still glad that he knows about the matter now. He doesn't like to keep secrets from him. And it'll be a relief, frankly, that Danny will come with him to his next appointment. Well, they haven't talked about that yet, but Steve is certain that Danny won't let him go alone.

"Lovely Danno," he murmurs, eliciting a soft sound from his partner, who albeit doesn't wake up.

With a sigh, Steve closes his eyes, concentrating on Danny's warm skin and his scent, and after a while, he actually manages to let go and drift off.

 

 

 


	12. Weddings Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Steve's got the worst ideas.
> 
> (Cargument, humour, silliness.)

 

“Danno?”

“Hm?”

“How about Las V-”

“No.”

“But-”

“Steven.”

“Daniel?”

“If you dare to suggest something similarly harebrained ever again, we won't get married at all.”

“Huh.”

 ...

“Don't give me that look.”

“Which look?”

“You're making Miffed Face.”

“I'm not- what's that even supposed to _mean_?”

“It _means_ that you're miffed about my refusal to get married in Las Vegas and hate the fact that I'm still so utterly adorable. Also, you badly want to kiss me.”

“And people wonder why we're going to therapy...”

“So?”

“So what?”

“Weren't you gonna kiss me?”

"No."

"Huh."

 ...

"Now  _ you _ 're giving  _ me _ a look."

"No, I don't. I'm just  _ looking _ at you, there's a difference."

"You're making... Pissed Off Puppy Face."

"Do I even want to know?"

"I'm telling you anyway. It means that you're _miffed_ because you thought I'd not be able to resist your charm. _ And _ you're cute, I'll give you that."

 ...

"Danno? Stop staring at me."

 ...

"Stop it, I'm driving!"

 ...

"Stop it!"

 ...

"Danno! I'll pull over if you don't stop!"

 ...

"Damn it!"

“ _Now_ we're talking!”

"I hate you. Just for the record: I'm still resisting, this has nothing to do with-"

"Shut up and kiss me already, will you?!"

"Well, we've stopped now so..."

“You smiling?”

“No...”

"You're smiling!"

"Shut up..."

"You do realize that you can't win this one, do you?"

"Oh, really? Why?"

"Because I won't shut up until you kiss me."

"Huh. ... Well- you _are_ cute, after all. I give in."

"Love you..."

"Yeah, yeah... Shutting you up now..."

"You're still... hmm...smiling..."

"You're... not shutting up..."

"Sorry..."

 ...

 ...

 

 


	13. Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's John McGarrett's birthday. Steve isn't doing too well.
> 
> (Emotional hurt/comfort, grief, fluff.)

 

Danny let himself into the house and paused, listening. Both cars were parked outside, therefore Steve should be home. Danny had just gotten back from New Jersey and had immediately tried to call his partner, but he hadn't picked up his phone, which was unusual to the point of worrysome. In addition, the house was dark.

“Steve?” he called, but it remained silent.

He found his partner outside where he was sitting on the beach, despite the fact that the sun had already set and despite the startingly cold wind which heralded an accumulating storm.

“Babe.”

When Steve turned around to look at Danny, he looked entirely caught off guard, that much was visible in the dim light: “Danno?”

His tone was pleasantly surprised but he didn't say more, and Danny understood why; Steve's voice had sounded choked and brittle just now. Wordlessly, he crouched down next to his partner and put his arms around him; he could feel that Steve was trembling, and he leaned into the embrace heavily, bringing his own arms up around Danny and holding on tightly.

“I'm so sorry,” Danny muttered, kissing Steve's hair, “I didn't realize which date it was until yesterday.”

“So you came back early,” Steve stated, his voice still unsteady.

“Yeah. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I couldn't give you the heads up because it I didn't want to call you at two a.m.”

Steve refrained from telling him that he was still wide awake at the time; it's sweet of Danny to be so considerate.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there to pick you up,” he then said, suddenly realizing that Danny had probably tried to call him after landing.

“It's okay,” Danny replied softly. “I caught a ride with one of the patrol cars.”

Despite everything, Steve briefly grinned: “Misemploying resources, Detective Williams?”

“Being resource _ful_ ,” Danny quipped, then added: “They were headed this way anyway.”

“Huh.” Steve finally looked up at him; his face was bathed in shadows, but Danny could tell that his eyes were red-rimmed, his expression exhausted.

“Have you been to the cemetery today, Babe?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Steve took a shuddering breath. “It's... I don't know. Somehow, his birthday is worse than the anniversary of his death.”

Danny nodded; he knew what Steve meant. Days like these made the loss palpable again.

“I took a candle,” Steve said. “One of those everlasting lights. I tried to sing Happy Birthday because I did it over the phone, but... it seemed wrong.”

Danny cupped Steve's face with one hand, gently caressing his cheek: “He'll understand. The candle's nice, though.”

“Thank you.” Steve sounded choked again as he leaned into Danny's touch once more, relieved that his partner was back already: “I'm glad you're home, Danno.”

“Me too, Babe. Me too.”

 

 


	14. Flu season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets sick first.
> 
> (Humour, mild h/c, some fluff.)

 

Steve McGarrett prides himself in his stamina and fitness. The ex Navy SEAL likes to swim and frequently goes running as well; apart from that, he eats healthily, doesn't smoke and drinks in moderation. Therefore it is entirely unjustified that he's been brought down by something as trivial as the flu. Or so he tells Danny, who tries to console him that it's the genuine article at least, not just a common cold, and that the flu can still be rather life-threatening if left untreated (Steve knows that he shouldn't take as much comfort in that as he does).

Turns out that for Danny, a Steve McGarrett with the flu is worse than a child with the flu. Children at least can't be blamed if they're whiny and/or obstinate in his opinion whereas Steve, who is old enough to know better, is being pigheaded as a matter of principle because he didn't agree to fall ill and doesn't want to stay in bed either. He suggests the couch, a deckchair on the lanai, the hammock in the garden, the beach and the couch in his office as possible alternatives, at which Danny folds his arms in front of his chest: “You need some proper rest, doctor's orders. And you're not leaving this house, period. Least of all to go to work and spread your disease around!” Wisely, he doesn't mention that it's Saturday.

Steve huffs indignantly, promptly triggering a bout of coughing: “It's boring,” he croaks.

Trying to be patient, Danny sits down on the bed:“Why don't you try to sleep?”

“I can't sleep now, it's the middle of the day!”

“You're running a fever of 103, aren't you tired?”

(Yes, he is, and sleeping actually sounds good, but he's a SEAL and SEALs don't get sick and Danny doesn't need to know that the fever is indeed making him feel uncomfortable.)

“No.”

“You look tired, Babe.”

“Not tired, Danno.”

“Okay. Hey, don't push the covers off.”

“It's too hot.”

“You need to sweat that fever out, remember?”

“But it's hot!”

“You've been through worse. If you'd just go to sleep-”

“Not tired.”

Danny, father since 2002 and therefore well versed in situations like these, wordlessly gets up, retrieves the papers from downstairs and begins to read to Steve; he hasn't even gotten to the sports section when Steve has dozed off.

Nevertheless, by the end of the day, Danny is disproportionately exhausted.

 

 _I should have known_ , he thinks on the following morning when he wakes up with a temperature and soaked with cold sweat.

Steve, whose condition has caught up with him by now, meaning he's given up any denial (and subsequently, fight), only looks at him miserably: “Sorry, Danno.”

“'bout what?”

“Infecting you.”

“Nonsense,” Danny says despite his hurting throat. “It's currently going around, is all.”

He takes a two-minute-shower Steve would be proud of if he had noticed; his legs feel like jelly, therefore he cuts it short and, after quickly drying himself off and putting on some fresh things, he crawls back into bed. He's aware that it'd be better to change the linen, but he really doesn't feel up to it, and neither does Steve, from the looks of him. In fact, he's suffering from severe aches which have begun sometime in the night and are worst in his back and his joints, making it impossible to find a comfortable position. With a groan, he shifts closer to Danny and huddles against him.

 

Both of them sleep for most of the day. Whereas Steve's fever lets up a bit in the evening, Danny's only increases. Steve hauls himself out of bed to get them something to drink and find some more medication; he's vaguely aware that they should probably eat something as well, but the thought alone is making him queasy. So he just stares dismally at the shelves without coming to a decision because thinking is slow-going anyway and in the end he just takes a large bottle of mineral water and a second glass upstairs. Danny turns towards him when Steve plunks down on the mattress, regarding Steve with glassy eyes: “I don't think that we'll be able to go to work tomorrow. Better call Chin.”

He's very pale, and Steve himself feels completely winded just from walking up the stairs, so he can't but admit that Danny has a point.

Chin offers sympathy and to go shopping for them if they need anything, which is really nice and also unsurprising; Steve makes his goofy SO-proud-of-my-ohana-face when he ends the call. His elation doesn't last long however, since Danny suddenly bolts for the bathroom and spends the rest of the evening throwing up. Steve keeps him company because at one point, Danny is shivering from exhaustion and the pain of throwing up nothing but bile, and Steve can't bear to see him like that. He also still feels responsible for his partner being ill, even though Danny's repeatedly told him that it's nonsense, so the least he can do is offer some support, both emotionally and physically. He steadies Danny during each bout and keeps him upright in between, providing whatever comfort can be had.

“You should go to bed,” Danny croaks at one point.

Steve just holds him tighter: “I'm fine, Danno,” he says gently but in a tone which doesn't brook any argument, and Danny's simply too depleted to protest.

It's nearly two in the morning when they finally both crawl back into bed. Steve wraps himself around Danny because he's freezing by now and Steve's a furnace (well, apart from that, Steve actually _is_ that clingy). It takes a long time until Danny stops shivering and they fall asleep.

In the morning, Steve's temperature has risen again and he doesn't need a mirror to know how he looks; if Danny is anything to go by, they both probably resemble the walking dead right now. The nausea hasn't abated entirely, therefore Danny refuses to eat or drink anything; his body is aching enough as it is, thank you very much, and he doesn't fancy another round of vomiting, stubbornly turning his head away from the proffered glass.

He only drinks something a few hours later when he's too thirsty to resist any longer, promptly throwing it up again a few minutes later.

Steve, worried about dehydration, takes his phone and calls for reinforcements. Half an hour later, Lou arrives: “Taxi's here,” he says good-naturedly as Steve lets him in. He and Danny are already dressed and have been waiting on the couch. Lou takes one good look at them and shakes his head: “You two need a doctor alright. Come on.”

 

When they come back roughly two hours later, Lou quickly writes up a shopping list before he leaves: “One of us will swing by later. Hang in there, okay?”

“Thank you, Buddy,” Steve waves and closes the door.

Danny, who looks as though he'll drop where he is standing any second, is actually beginning to sway, so Steve quickly grabs his arm and takes him upstairs, the bag with the medication firmly in his other hand because his own knees are beginning to feel like jelly by now and he doesn't want to have to go downstairs again.

It's a relief to be lying down. Steve closes his eyes and reaches for Danny's hand; he's asleep within minutes. Danny stays awake for a bit longer, propped up against two additional pillows, trying to avoid vertigo by waiting until the medication takes effect. He eventually dozes off for a while; when he is startled out of that by his own muddleheaded dreams, the nausea has indeed lessened a bit and he finds he can sit up without the sensation that the room is spinning. Relieved, he pushes one of the pillows off the bed with measured movements, adjusts the other so that it is nearer to Steve's and lies down again, huddled against his partner as close as possible.

It doesn't take long for Steve to register this even in his sleep, therefore he's soon wrapped around Danny with every available limb. And even though they're both still feverish and sweaty and haven't had a shower that day, it's the best kind of comfort Danny can imagine. So he turns his head towards Steve and rests his cheek against the other's forehead; it doesn't take long for him to doze off again.

 

 

 


	15. Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny gets injured in the field. Steve is fretting (a.k.a. Steve needs a hug).
> 
> (Mild angst, h/c, fluff.)

 

Even as Danny handcuffs the guy he's just been chasing and finally brought down with a well-timed tackle, he feels a little dizzy. A strangely distant part of him registers the sticky warmth on the side of his face, the side which actually feels as though he's been hit by a wrecking ball, but he can't heed it right now, since his captive still has the nerve to struggle as Danny pulls him to his feet now and he's got some trouble to keep his own balance; his bad knee informs him that it's not at all happy about the recent sprint and preceding activities. So Danny grits his teeth, reinforces his grip on the guy and marches him back to the warehouse, trying to ignore the effort it takes.

As the big white building looms ahead of them, Danny wonders, feeling oddly detached all the while, why it is moving, gently swaying to and fro as it is. He blinks, unaware that he is slowing down, and barely hears the rapidly approaching footsteps. Someone steadies him just as he loses his grip on the handcuffed guy, and an alarmed voice calls his name. Well, not his real name, but it's close. He squints at Steve's looming figure- because only Steve is this ridiculously tall (and he's the only person this tall who's allowed to call him _Danno)_ and wants to ask about the warehouse, but somehow, he can't assemble the words. He stumbles forward instead, towards Steve, and then there's pain, fresh and sudden and blinding, erupting from his knee, and that's the last thing he knows.

 

Steve paces up and down the waiting room. He has only changed out of his dirty clothes because Chin brought him the spare shirt and pants he keeps in his office, and he hasn't even sat down once. He is tired and worried despite the overall successful raid because this shouldn't have happened. He should have prevented Danny from taking off to pursue one of the thugs, especially after he had gotten a hefty blow to his temple during a hand-to-hand prior to that. But Steve had underestimated his own opponent, a stupid mistake, which meant it had taken him longer to take that one down than anticipated. When he had finally gotten the upper hand, Danny had been long gone.

Steve is proud of him, of course he is, but the price seems too high considering that his partner's in surgery right now because of his knee. Which, when Steve comes to think of it, has never stopped giving Danny trouble but acted up from time to time. When it was really bad, Danny would use his cane for a few days, but he never said much about it, contrary to his usual demeanour. Now Steve blames himself for not taking it more serious; he should have dragged Danny to the doctor's even the first time that it happened instead of making fun of the matter.

“Commander McGarrett?”

Steve whirls around to find himself face to face with the surgeon who informs him that everything went well. “Detective Williams is in recovery,” he says. “You can see him if you like, but only for a few minutes.”

Grateful because he knows that the doctor is making an exception for him, Steve follows him.

 

Danny isn't awake yet, and to Steve, he looks horribly pale. There's a large bruise blooming on the left side of his face; Steve counts five steri-strips on his temple. Other than that, his knee is heavily bandaged and elevated, and there's an IV line going into his left hand. Steve has seen much worse, but his stomach is in knots nevertheless, and it apparently shows. A nurse who has just been checking Danny's blood pressure smiles at Steve: “His vitals are looking good,” she says encouragingly before she leaves the small room.

Gingerly, he caresses Danny's hand before wrapping his fingers around it, his eyes glued to his partner's face. Every line, every inch of that face is so familiar to him, but he thinks that all this time that they've spent together still isn't nearly enough; he wants more. Needs more. Unaware that he's doing so, he raises his free hand and gently runs the back of his fingers over Danny's cheek; this is the man he loves more than anything else, and today he failed to protect him.

If Danny was awake and knew what Steve was thinking about, he'd protest, of course, would tell his partner that he isn't made of porcelain and can look after himself, thank you very much, and besides, these things happen in their line of work. Still, Steve thinks stubbornly, I could have prevented this.

He's pulled out of his musings when Danny begins to stir; it's almost imperceptible at first, but then he blinks. His gaze is unfocused as Steve leans over him: “Hey, Danno,” he says softly. “You with me?”

Danny blinks once more, then hums: “S'eve.”

Steve reinforces his grip around his partner's hand: “How are you feeling?”

Danny blinks again, bemused, before he swallows a few times: “Muzzy.”

Right then, the nurse comes back in: “Look who's awake,” she says. “Welcome back, Detective Williams.”

Steve steps back so that she can check Danny over; obviously, she's pleased with the results.

“We'll move you to the surgical ward soon,” she tells him. “We'll keep you in for at least a day because of the concussion. Dr. Keahi will be along at one point, discussing further treatment and physical therapy with you.”

Danny looks at her with heavily lidded eyes; Steve is certain that he won't remember any of this later on. The nurse now turns to him: “I'm sorry, Commander, but I must ask you to leave now.”

With a heavy heart, Steve nods: “I'll just say goodbye.”

She inclines her head with another smile: “Of course.”

“Thank you.” Though they both know that Steve would have done it anyway.

He comes to stand right next to the bed once more, gently cupping Danny's cheek with his hand and bending down to kiss him: “I'll be back later, okay?”

Danny hums in agreement, his eyes are already closing. Steve remains like that for a moment though, wishing he didn't have to go: “I love you, Danno,” he says very softly.

Ever so minutely, the corners of Danny's mouth quirk upwards for a moment.

 

Two days later, Steve can take him home. Danny gets a set of crutches, but Steve won't let him climb the stairs with those once they're back in their house; he's afraid Danny might lose his balance and fall. So Danny takes only one crutch and Steve supports him from the other side.

It's marvelous to have Steve so close after all this time, to feel his warmth and his strength, but Danny is relieved when they have finally made it up the stairs and he's lying in his own bed. He's still getting dizzy when he's upright for too long, and his knee is only bearable with the painkillers he's been prescribed.

Steve has changed the sheets and brought in some extra pillows for the knee, and on the nightstand there's a bowl of fruit next to a glass and a bottle of water.

Danny takes all of it in as Steve eases him onto the mattress and feels his heart swelling with love.

“When did you have time to do all this?” he asks once he's settled comfortably into the pillows with his knee elevated.

“It's no big deal,” Steve replies.

Danny shakes his head, if very cautiously: “It is. You look as though you didn't sleep much during the past few days, and you divided your time between work and the hospital if I'm informed correctly.”

“Kono?”

“Not ratting out anyone.”

“Snitches, the lot of them.”

“Anyway. You're wearing the same shirt as yesterday.”

“It's still no big deal, Sherlock.”

“It still is. You must have gone shopping for groceries in between as well, and far as I know, we hadn't done the laundry before the raid, so you also had to do that on top.”

“So what? You'd have done the same for me.”

Danny reaches for Steve's hand and pulls him down towards him: “You still think it's your fault, don't you?” he asks gently. They've already been over this once, in the hospital.

From the way Steve avoids his gaze, he can tell that he's right. His heart swells some more; Steve is such a big goof with such a small, vulnerable soul. He sighs, pulling some more until Steve is lying half on top of him, and wraps his arms around his partner: “Not your fault,” he says softly, carding his fingers through Steve's hair.

Steve, who now can't but look at him, shakes his head: “If I had been faster-” Obviously, he's once more being bowled over by his many insecurities.

“Shut up,” Danny says as tenderly as he can manage. “There are no ifs, okay? It was an accident, end of story.”

Steve exhales audibly through his nose: “But-”

“No buts either. And I'm the convalescent here, so I get to dictate these things.”

Against his will, Steve is amused. He raises one eyebrow: “Oh, you do?”

“Yeah.” Danny pokes him on the nose. “Now stop being so gloomy, will you?”

Steve can't but smile at him; it starts in the corners of his mouth but soon spreads over his whole face as he regards his partner now: “I missed you,”he then says softly.

Danny returns the smile: “Missed you too.”

“I don't sleep well when you're not here.”

Danny easily believes this, since Steve does look exhausted after all. “You big, soft Neanderthal,” he says affectionately.

Steve just makes a small sound and burrows his nose into the hollow of Danny's throat, inhaling deeply; Danny can feel how the tension slowly leaves his partner's body.

He closes his eyes: “Love you, Babe,” he murmurs.

Steve hums in agreement, already half asleep.

 

 


	16. Dæmons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace still likes bedtime stories.
> 
> (Humour, fluff.)

 

 

Whereas Charlie preferred bedtime stories which were spontaneously made up, Grace had always loved it when Danny read to her. Which had actually never ceased, to his never-ending amazement, even though she had slowly but steadily transmogrified into a teenager and there were days on which Danny was beginning to question his own sanity. But come bedtime, she'd put her cell phone aside and make room for him to stretch out next to her, then snuggled against him and listened to whatever he was reading. After all seven Harry Potters, she had chosen 'Northern Lights' next.

“I really like the idea of having a d _æ_ mon,” she told Danny one evening when he closed the book. 

He smiled: “Yeah?”

“Hmm. It'd be nice to always have someone to cuddle up with. Someone you don't have to explain yourself to.”

He wondered if she and Will were having trouble, but didn't want to risk the peace by asking about it. So he just shrugged: “And someone to talk to.”

“Yeah.” She turned her head so that she could look at him: “Which animal do you think your d _æ_ mon would look like? Mine would totally be a swan.”

“A swan? You sure, Monkey?”

“Yeah. It's graceful but it can also break your arm.” She giggled.

Danny grinned: “You've given it some thought, huh? So what's mine?”

“A dog.”

“Explain.”

“Dogs are the best,” Grace said, quietly now. “Like Cody. They're loyal and clever and strong. And cute.”

Touched, Danny contemplated this: “Okay...yeah, maybe. Thank you.” He also still missed Cody, and he was proud of his daughter that she hadn't forgotten him. And apart from that it was really nice what she had just said.

“So what about Charlie?” he quickly asked.

“A squirrel, definitely.”

“Hm. And Steve?”

Grace pondered this for a moment: “Not sure,” she then said. “An eagle, maybe. Or a tiger.”

Danny sighed: “Something big, huh?”

“Big and lethal.”

“Have you ever seen him when he's got Kicked Puppy Face?”

Grace laughed: “You're right.”

They were silent for a moment, then she sighed: “I'll have to think about it.”

“You do that,” Danny replied, about to get up, but Grace quickly put her hand on his arm: “Can you stay for a bit?”

Pleasantly surprised, he paused in his motion: “Sure.”

“Thanks.” Grace nestled her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes: “Good night, Danno,” she muttered.

“Sleep well, Monkey,” he said softly, pressing a kiss onto her hair, happy that deep down, she still was his little girl.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: 'His Dark Materials' by Philip Pullman aren't mine either.


	17. Keep (S08e10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scene for Season 8, Episode 10 "I Ka Wa Ma Mua, I Ka Wa Ma Hope"/"The Future is in the Past": Steve returns to the hospital in the evening.
> 
> (Angst, fluff, Steve needs a hug.)

 

Steve returned to the hospital later that day; he was bone-tired by now and he could feel that he was close to crashing, but he needed to see Danny, to make sure he was still doing okay. The fear he had felt was still there, crawling along his spine and up his neck, making his hair stand on end: he had nearly lost him. It was unfeasible and yet- he still heard the small, pained sounds Danny had made, could still feel his clammy skin underneath his fingers. His blood.

It had been bad enough on the boat. Was it really only a few days ago that he had thought they'd once more cheated death? And why was it that apparently, it wasn't enough that people kept leaving him by choice? Why did fate try to take those who were willing to stay as well?

Pausing outside of Danny's room, Steve closed his eyes for a second, taking a few deep breaths before he went in: there was no point in working himself up any further. He had been on edge all day and the photo they had found in the shooter's hotel room was still spooking around in his mind anyway.

Danny was asleep, so Steve cautiously sat down on the edge of the mattress, taking his partner's hand in his. Danny's face was relaxed now if still pale, but Steve couldn't stop looking. When they first met, he didn't want to like Danny, but all his defences were useless against this man. Steve remembered lying awake back then, pondering the matter, and it had been Danny's smile he had been thinking of when he finally went to sleep. Steve now thought he had rarely seen such an expressive face because just as Danny often wore his heart on his sleeve, one could also easily read his emotions in his expression most of the time. And Steve loved his smile, the way his eyes lit up with glee when he was laughing about something; he was something else, this guy. Unaware that he was doing so, he squeezed his partner's hand, therefore he was surprised to feel Danny squeezing back.

Tired eyes blinked at him: “Hey.” Danny's voice was soft and gravelly, and it was an effort to produce any sounds because not only the wound was making itself known; his throat was sore, as was his torso from getting resuscitated during surgery. He hadn't noticed it so distinctly earlier, but now he definitely felt as though someone had used him as a punching bag.

Steve looked terrible as well; his eyes were blood-shot, the skin underneath dark from lack of sleep.

“How're you feeling?” he asked now, reaching out with his free hand to caress Danny's cheek.

He smiled: “Better'n you, apparently.”

“I'm fine, Danno. Don't worry about me.”

Danny regarded him: “Should sleep, Babe.”

Steve smiled as well: “I'd rather stay for a while,” he replied softly, and Danny understood. Even though he only had a hazy recollection of most of the events after the shooting, he remembered how frantic Steve had been, how he had tried to be calm and reassuring for Danny, but how his hands had trembled nevertheless, and his eyes...

So Danny just squeezed Steve's hand once more before he closed his own eyes again: “'kay. Love you.”

“Love you more,” Steve said, his voice barely above a whisper. That night, he didn't leave at all.

 

 

 

 


	18. Remedial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long, exhausting case, Steve and Danny unwind on the couch.
> 
> (Lil' bit emotional h/c, otherwise mostly tooth-rotting fluff.)

 

It's raining, and this kind of rain means business. It's not of the _dancing-in-the_ -variety but rather accompanied by the thunderstorms one gets when the latest hurricane passes by the islands. Even though it doesn't make landfall, it certainly makes its presence known nevertheless.

When Steve and Danny leave HQ that evening, they're drenched by the time they reach the car, and a little more on the way from the car to the house. Danny's seen enough tropical storms by now not to be surprised, this hasn't been the first time it happened today and he's too weary to care much anyway; they've been up for days, having only just closed the case this afternoon, and he can't even remember when he last slept for more than a half hour.

Neither can Steve, though he keeps telling Danny he's fine. Danny however knows for a fact that Steve is fibbing a bit. He blames himself for not having been faster, convinced that he could have saved the last victim of the serial killer they were chasing. He gets like that, sometimes, taking on the weight of the world because of some imaginary mistake. Maybe it's got to do with this competitive streak of his: always needs to be successful. But he's also much more caring than a lot of people would make him out to be. There's no point in arguing with him in this kind of emotional state; all Danny can do is to be there for him.

 

At home, they stumble up the stairs and get into something dry and comfortable because sleeping is not an option yet. For one, they are starving, and secondly, they are still processing; well, mostly Steve is. While Danny would have lain down with a book after dinner if he had been on his own and subsequently would have dropped off in record time, he knew that Steve was still far too high-strung and won't just go from a three day adrenaline high to zero within half an hour. So he's prepared to last a while longer than he'd usually have.

Since they're too exhausted to cook and didn't go grocery shopping recently anyway, they order in, then collapse onto the couch with a six-pack.

“Wanna watch a game?” Steve asks.

Danny turns towards him: “ _Or_ we could watch a movie.”

“Yeah? Which one?”

Danny puts his beer on the coffee table: “You'll see.” With that, he gets to his feet once more and disappears in the kitchen.

Steve leans his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers, but he's careful not to close his eyes yet; on days like this, it's not that easy to push the pictures in his mind aside.

Seconds later, Danny comes back in, a broad smile on his face and his hands behind his back.

Steve's heart can't but swell at the sight because Danny is adorable right now, all gleefully excited despite his fatigue. 

He sits down next to Steve: “I've got something for you,” he says, beaming.

“What is it?”

“Ta dah!” With a flourish, he shows Steve what he's holding in his hand.

“Top Gun! Aw, Danno...” Steve is touched.

“It's the 30th Anniversary Steelbook,” Danny explains even though Steve can see that for himself, “with extras.”

Ever since Steve's ancient video player ate his equally ancient 'Top Gun' tape shortly after Christmas, he was bereft of his all time favourite film. And while it is decidedly _not_ true that he got moist eyes every time 'Take my breath away' played on the radio as Danny claims, he certainly wasn't happy about it.

“Where did you get it?”

“I ordered it off the internet.”

“Really? I thought you hated the internet.”

“Well, Grace did it for me. Kept calling me 'gramps' for a while.” Danny sighs.

“Thank you, Baby,” Steve now says, leaning in to kiss his partner. Who kisses him back: “You're welcome, Maverick.”

Grinning, Steve turns the steelbook over in his hands: “30 years. Wow. Can't believe it's that old...”

“Come on,” Danny says, not wanting Steve to get sentimental on top of everything else. “Take my breath away.”

Shaking his head, Steve gets up and puts the DVD into the player, rubbing his hands when he returns to the couch; Danny watches him with a smile. Steve crawls straight into his arms and kisses him once more: “You're the best.”

“Yeah, I know... Can't help it!”

Chuckling, Steve tenderly nuzzles Danny's nose with his before he snuggles even closer. Danny wraps his arms around him as Steve gets comfortable on top of him, his head tucked under Danny's chin.

Outside, the rain is still pelting against the windows.

 

When the food arrives, Steve scrambles to his feet and opens the door, generously tipping the delivery guy who's also quite soaked by now.

After they've eaten, they pretty much resume their former position on the couch, if with the addition of a blanket; Steve can't remember the last time it's been so cozy. He's grateful for this kind of home he's got now, the strong, steady heartbeat he can feel against his face, Danno on the whole. If he weren't here, Steve wouldn't have been able to stop himself from brooding, would have allowed it to get him down, he's certain of it. And he has an inkling why Danny, whose eyelids were already drooping in the car on the way home, didn't just go to bed earlier; he is always making sure to take care of Steve. Who now reaches up and strokes his partner's cheek: “Love you,” he says quietly.

The answer reverberates through Danny's chest.

 

Long before the movie ends, Danny dozes off, but Steve doesn't wake him; he's all right, after all.

 

 


	19. The One Where Danny's Almost a Saint (S04e03)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's reminded of one of Danny's softer (and very lovely) sides.
> 
> (fluff, humour)

 

Steve is just about to leave the lobby of the Moana Surfrider Hotel after talking to a witness when a pretty brunette woman addresses him: “Excuse me- Commander McGarrett?”

She seems vaguely familiar, but it doesn't click until she introduces herself as “Alani, Kaylea van Horn's sister.”

It takes a moment for Steve to recall the case of the wealthy couple murdered in their own home a few years ago. He pauses and shakes her hand: “Yeah, of course. How are you doing?”

“I'm fine,” Alani's smile looks a little pained: “Mostly, anyway. It's still a bit surreal at times, you know?”

Since Steve's been there, he does know, so he nods: “And how's your niece doing?”

At that, Alani's expression softens: “She's great. She's attending pre-school, can you believe it? And she still snuggles up with her monkey every night, she just loves it.”

When Steve looks confused, she hesitates: “Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you knew. After the case was closed, Detective Williams stopped by to give her a large stuffed monkey. He said his own daughter had grown out of it.”

Steve can't but smile: “That does sound like him.”

“Yeah, well- if you see him, could you please tell him that the monkey is still being loved fiercely?”

“Will do.”

“Thank you. I've got to run, it was nice to meet you.”

“You too, bye.”

 

As Steve walks to the car, his heart is full of love for his partner. It's such a typical thing for him to do, trying to ease someone's pain like that and then not even talking about it. And Steve knows for a fact that Gracie never grew out of her own stuffed monkey; it's a bit loved off by now but still very much in demand, if mostly secretly these days; he's seen it among the pillows of her bed when she comes over for the weekends or holidays. So Danny bought that monkey for the little girl and then tried to make it look as though it's no big deal.

Lovely, tender-hearted Danno; Steve suddenly misses him intently even though he'll see him back at HQ in approximately twenty minutes.

So he takes his phone and sends him a message: _Did I tell you how much I love you?_

The answer comes only a few seconds later; Danny is working at his desk since his bum knee was acting up, he's probably bored: _What did you do?_

Steve grins: _Nothing. Just realized once more how amazing you are._

This time, Danny's answer takes a little bit longer: _Huh. Well, I guess it happens from time to time... You sure you okay? Nobody clock you one on the head or anything?_

_Yes, Danno_ , Steve texts back. _I am. Be back in 20. Close the blinds in your office._

He can almost hear the eye-roll: _Already told you the walls aren't soundproof._

Snickering now, Steve quickly replies: _We're gonna be quiet. Really need to kiss you though._

And he does. He walks in, circles Danny's desk, cups his face with his hands without stopping for hello and kisses him soundly, tongue and all, despite the still open blinds.

When he finally pulls back, Danny's expression is priceless: “What's brought this on?” he asks, a little breathlessly.

Steve smiles at him: “It's just... I love you so much!”

“I love you too,” Danny replies, but he still looks partly confused, partly wary: “You sure you're alright?”

“Yep,” Steve is already on his way out again, since he needs to check up on the account the witness gave him. “Later, Danno!”

“It's my car, isn't it? You did something to my car!” Danny shouts after him, but Steve just laughs and leaves Danny's office, studiously ignoring Lou's and Tani's pointed looks.

Next time, he'll make sure the blinds are closed.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The monkey story refers to S04e03 ("Kaʻoia iʻo Ma Loko"/"The Truth Within"). I don't think the name of the little girl was mentioned, but if it was, feel free to correct me.


	20. A Moment In Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Danny during a rather intimate situation
> 
> (Romance, fluff, nothing graphic.)

 

It takes a while until both Steve and Danny have stilled since their bodies were vibrant with surplus energy, the ebb and flow of their aftershocks.

After one last, lingering kiss, Steve's shimmies down and settles himself between Danny's legs, his ear on Danny's chest: he's listening how the rapidly beating heart gradually slows down, matching his own in that. He barely notices how sweaty they are, how their skin clings together.

Danny's hands begin to roam almost of their own account, mirroring the utter relaxation they're feeling now that the storm they've raised has abated: the fingers of his left carding through the short hair just above Steve's neck, the right hand running in slow circles over his back, warm and gentle.

Steve inhales his scent, an intimate blend of pure Danno, the faint remnants of the shower gel he uses and the results of their intimacy, and for a moment feels sorry that they didn't have this earlier. He loves how Danny's body feels against his own and the way they move together. How there are absolutely no boundaries left and the sounds Danny makes when all his defenses have been peeled away, when he's being himself without holding anything back. He's sweet and vulnerable and adorable like that, and Steve thinks he's the luckiest bastard on earth that he's got the privilege of getting to know this man, of having earned his trust and his love. Sharing this with him.

Helpless as what to do with all the affection, he feels around for Danny's hand, takes it in his and presses a kiss into the palm: “Hey, Danno?”

“Hmm?” Danny sounds sleepy now.

“Let's just stay in bed all day.”

He can feel the soft chuckle more than hear it: “Fine with me,” Danny murmurs.

Steve kisses the skin just above Danny's heart, then he shimmies further up again until their noses are touching: “You're lovely,” he breathes, leaning in for another kiss, gentle and unhurried.

Danny smiles, which Steve can feel even before he eventually pulls back: “Ditto,” he replies in a low voice, cupping Steve's neck with his hand as his eyes roam over his partner's face: “Crazy, yes, that too. But definitely also lovely.”

 

 

 


	21. Any Port In A Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny gets injured during a case. Steve calls for reinforcements.
> 
> (humour)

 

 

Steve frowns at his phone, biting back all the expletives which come to his mind; he's at the hospital with Danny and they've already had a long, taxing day, which albeit doesn't seem to be over yet. He's just gotten a call from Chin that the information from the guy they arrested and who is responsible for Danny ending up in the hospital in the first place has revealed that there are more people involved than they initially assumed; since they've probably been warned about the earlier raid by now, they need to follow up immediately.

Steve agreed to meet his team there, aware that he needed someone else to take Danny home instead, who has been given the good kind of drugs. Meaning that he was a little loopy and couldn't be left to his own devices, much less take a taxi. So Steve tried Kamekona (“Sorry brah, we're swamped- got a mention in the latest Lonely Planet. I'm thinking of buying a second truck.”) and Jerry, who didn't answer his phone. He even considered calling Rachel until he remembered that she, Stan and Grace were on the mainland.

He's quickly running out of ideas _and_ out of time by now; chewing his lip, he browses through his directory until he's found the one number he was keen to avoid and presses down on it with more force than necessary. It doesn't take long until the call is being answered. Steve grimaces: “Doris? It's me, Steve. I need a favour.”

 

When Steve returns to the cubicle Danny's in, his partner is still lying on the gurney, paler than Steve'd like. At least the pain's under control for now, and he's aware that they've been lucky; Danny took a hit in the vest, the brunt of the impact propelling him backwards and through the balustrade of a stairwell. Fortunately, they weren't very high up and he landed on a pile of cardboard boxes, but apart from the contusion on his chest he has dislocated his right shoulder and broken his collarbone. Miraculously, he hasn't sustained any head injuries, which is why he doesn't have to stay at the hospital, something Steve is tremendously glad about. He had heard the shot and the sound of the fall but hadn't been able to get to Danny at once since they hadn't taken down the shooter yet; when he finally arrived at his partner's side, his stomach was in knots. Danny didn't move, but he opened his eyes when he felt Steve's frantically searching for a pulse, and Steve could have wept with relief.

Gently, he now puts his hand on Danny's uninjured arm: “Danno.”

Danny's gaze is less bemused than it was in that old factory building as he looks at Steve, but his eyes are glassy.

“I'm so sorry, Baby, but I have to go,” Steve tells him. “My mother is going to take you home, she'll be here in twenty minutes.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah.”

“Your mom Doris?”

“Yes? I don't have another one.”

“Jus' making sure I heard right.” Danny grins.

“Oh boy, they really meant well, huh?” Steve mutters under his breath before he bends down to kiss Danny: “I'll give you a call in case it gets late. The nurse is going to be back soon and help you get dressed, okay?”

“'kay...” Danny smiles at him. “Later, Honey.”

Steve shakes his head; with one last glance at his partner and a wink, he leaves.

 

Danny's dressed and already signed his release papers when a nurse shows Doris McGarrett into his cubicle.

“Heyy,” he greets her. “Mom. Steve's mom.”

“Hi Danno,” she replies, looking him over with a practised eye; Steve's already told her that he's a bit off his rocker due the pain relievers, and really, he does seem rather dopey. “Ready to go?”

“Ready,” he confirms, shimmying off the gurney. He's silent on the way out and during the first few minutes in the car, which strikes Doris as odd, even with the injury: if she's learned one thing about Danny Williams it is that he usually talks a lot.

“Are you feeling okay?” she therefore asks him.

Danny sighs: “Yeah, I'm okay. Can't feel much right now.”

“Good. You took a nasty fall, according to my son.”

“Nah, it wasn't so bad.”

“Really? Because Steve sounded rather distressed.”

“He's always worrying too much,” Danny says, his voice full of affection. “He's so sweet...”

“Yes, he is,” Doris agrees, her voice gentle.

“And that goofy smile of his- have you seen his smile? He lights up the whole room when he smiles.” Danny beams at nothing in particular.

Doris glances at him: “He does? He's rather serious whenever I happen to see him.”

“That's just his poker face,” Danny replies, waving it off with his good hand. “It's a SEAL thing. But he's actually like a half-baked cookie- all soft and gooey on the inside. Told him so. He's really sweet, secretly. Should see him with my daughter- oh, right, you have.” He sighs: “Gracie loves him as well. He's great...”

Doris manages not to grin; apparently, she's found the on-button, because Danny keeps talking about Steve and why he's so great. And how he keeps doing crazy things. And how he's always driving Danny's car because of his control issues. And how he's always wearing cargo pants with partially mysterious contents. And how they met.

“... hated him at first, I really did”, he says as they're turning onto Steve's drive. “Especially because he wouldn't stop with the crazy. Dangled a suspect from a roof by his ankles and stuff. And he keeps getting me shot at. But then he turns on his charm and you can't help it- before you know it, you're head over heels in love with him. And I've gotta say one thing for those cargo pants- if anyone can wear them, it's him with his giraffe legs and his perfect lil'-”

“We're here!” Doris interjects quickly.

“Tushie,” Danny says, looking around: “Oh, yes.”

With a sigh, Doris gets out of the car, walks around it and opens the passenger door: “Come on,” she says, holding out her hand to Danny, “let's get you inside. I'll make you a nice cup of tea, and then you can tell me about all the other crazy things Steve has done.”

"'s got great abs too. Did you see his abs?"

"Uh, no, I didn't."

"Oh right, because you're Mom. I'll shut up about his abs now, 'kay?"

"That'd probably be best," Doris mutters as she helps Danny to his feet. He just beams at her.

 

When Steve gets home in the evening, Danny is napping on the couch. He looks marginally better as some colour has returned to his face, and his features are relaxed. Good, so he isn't in pain then.

Something smells good, so Steve follows the scent into the kitchen where he finds his mother stirring something on the stove: “Hi, Mom,” he says, momentarily overwhelmed by the memories this is conjuring up.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” she smiles. “How was your day?”

“Too long, but we closed the case.” He sounds tired. “What are you making?”

“Ratatouille. Well, sort of. I just used whatever you had in the fridge.”

“Smells really good.”

“It's nearly done, so if you want to go and shower first...”

“Yeah. Danny okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Meds pretty much knocked him out.”

Steve looks at her and gets the impression that there's something she's not telling him; she seems vaguely amused. “You okay?” he therefore asked.

“Yes, of course,” she says. “It was nice to spend some time with him, actually.”

“Huh. But he's all drugged up.”

“Yeah, still. We talked a bit, and he was... nice.” Her smile deepens: "He's really besotted with you, Stevie."

"Why, what did he talk about?"

Doris shrugs: "Just how you two met and how you became friends and stuff."

"Okay," Steve replies hesitantly before he turns towards the door. He keeps mulling it over in the shower; there's definitely something she's not telling him.

Ah well, he'll ask Danny about it later.

 

 


	22. Any Port In A Storm continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be the first and only part which is a continuation of the previous chapter. 
> 
> (hurt/comfort, fluff, humour)

 

On the following morning, Steve wakes up from a hand on his shoulder and his name being repeated.

Blinking his eyes open, it takes him two seconds to get from a moment of confusion to being alert.

Danny is leaning against the headboard, looking drawn and white-faced.

“Whoa, Danno,” Steve quickly sits up. “Pain's bad, huh?”

Danny nods minutely; there are fine beads of cold sweat on his forehead.

“Where are your painkillers?” Steve asks, already half out of bed.

“Dunno.” Danny's voice is faint, and Steve's heart contracts with sympathy: he's been there, after all.

“I'll find them,” he says, looking around the bathroom before he heads downstairs, where he spots the pills on the kitchen counter, next to Danny's wallet. Steve grabs them and a large glass of water and returns to their bedroom: “You shouldn't take them on an empty stomach, so better drink all of the water, okay?”

Danny only blinks in response. Steve nips into the bathroom once more, grabbing a washcloth which he wets with cold water; as he gets back to the bed, Danny hands him the empty glass and closes his eyes, looking defeated.

After a moment of deliberation, Steve scoots over and cautiously pushes Danny forward so that he can slide in between him and the headboard, settling Danny between his thighs. He can feel that his partner is trembling ever so slightly as Danny leans back against him, and he shudders a little as Steve puts the cold cloth on his forehead, but then he sighs gratefully.

He's still bracing himself though, can't help it: the pain's relentless, comes in waves now. Steve winds his arm around his midriff, rubbing gentle circles on his belly with his palm; usually, this calms Danny down. He wishes he could do more, but as he's more or less helpless, he simply keeps up his gentle ministrations.

After a few minutes, the medication finally seems to be taking effect, as the tension in Danny's body is beginning to seep away, and he gradually sags against Steve. When he removes the washcloth, Danny turns his head and presses his forehead against his partner's jaw: “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“No need to thank me, Danno,” Steve replies softly, nuzzling his skin.

They stay like that for a while, dozing a little, until Steve's alarm goes off. He'd prefer to stay at home with Danny, but there's too much to do after a day like the previous one, and he needs to keep the governor up to date as well.

“I'll be fine,” Danny tells him as Steve helps him to get dressed, though he's still too pale. “I've got everything I need.”

“My mom is going to stop by around noon,” Steve says. “I'll leave the door unlocked, okay?”

“Okay.” Danny frowns; his recollections of the previous day are a bit vague. “Your mom stayed late yesterday, didn't she?”

“Yeah. And she kept making a face.”

“What face?”

“I dunno. Like she was trying not to laugh. I've been meaning to ask you what you two talked about.”

Danny's frown deepens, because for the life of him he can't remember.

“I'm sorry, Babe, I have no idea.”

Steve takes pity on him: “It's okay, maybe you'll remember it later.” He kisses Danny on the nose, and when his partner makes a protesting sound, also kisses him properly.

“Sure you can't stay?” Danny asks into the kiss even though he knows the answer.

Steve cups Danny's jaw with his hand, caressing his skin with his thumb: “I'll try to get home early, promise.”

 

And he does, to his own surprise. When he walks in, he finds Danny on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, watching TV.

Steve sits down next to him, kisses him hello and looks him over, content with the results: some colour has returned to Danny's face, and he's visibly relaxed.

“There's some leftover food in the fridge,” Danny says after Steve's told him about his day. “Your mom brought it. I can't pronounce it, but it's good.”

Steve leans back and rests his head on Danny's good shoulder: “In a moment,” he mutters, turning his head so that he can burrow his face into his partner's shirt and inhale his scent. Nothing compares after a few long, stressful days.

Danny presses a kiss on Steve's head: “Love you.”

The corners of Steve's mouth quirk up at that, and he hums: “You too.”

“We played cards,” Danny continues, “and I've gotta say, Steven, I really don't know where you got your poker skills from, but her it ain't.”

Steve scrunches up his nose: “I'm not sure that's a proper sentence.”

“Doesn't matter if you got my point.”

“Huh. Ripped you off?”

“Hm. I may have to sell my car.”

“Oh dear.”

“So I was thinking, if we have to take your truck in the future, it'd only be fair if I got to drive it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Oh, and about yesterday- it turns out I told your mom that you've got a great ass.”

Steve sits up:“What?”

“To be fair, it's the drugs talking.”

“What exactly did you say?”

“Apparently I said you had a perfect little tushie.”

“Danno...” Steve groans.

“Oh, come on, it's not that bad. I could have been _way_ more graphic.”

“Still! She's my mom!”

“Exactly! She probably agrees!”

“Danno!”

“What?”

“That still the drugs talking?”

“Why're you making such a big deal out of it? All mothers dote on their sons, it's the law.”

“Want me to call yours and ask her about your _tushie_?”

“Huh. Yeah, no. I kinda see what you mean.”

“Thank you.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve resumes his former position on Danny's shoulder.

“Hey, Babe?” Danny asks a moment later.

“What.”

“I changed my mind. I think I'll let you drive the truck. … Ow! Stop biting!”

 

 

 


	23. She's Like the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve, Danny, Grace and _Dirty Dancing_. What could possibly go wrong?
> 
> (humour, mild h/c)

 

 

If anyone had told Danny, ten years ago, that there'd be days on which he'd be so irritated with his daughter that he wanted to punch someone, he'd have laughed at them. Or called them insane. Or probably both. Now however that his baby girl has reached the height of puberty, there's no denying that living with her, even with the limited time they have together, can be challenging, cautiously put.

She's deep in the throes of being a teenager and therefore unpredictable. The only one who appears relatively unfazed by her ever changing mood is Charlie, who's mastered the art of ignoring her. Danny can't, however. Grace has been the center of his world for so long, it's difficult to suddenly have to deal with eye-rolling indifference and sometimes downright impertinence when she only ever was sweet before her hormones went rampaging.

In the privacy of his own mind, Danny tends to find excuses for her, but it isn't always easy, especially when she's obviously seeking solitude or spends time with her friends rather than with her dad.

He's all the more happy, or rather ridiculously grateful, whenever she wants to include him in her plans nowadays. Well, depending on what those entail, but he usually doesn't care as long as she wants to do something with him.

Which is why Steve and he find themselves on the couch with Grace one rainy Saturday evening, watching _Dirty Dancing_. Danny doesn't know what he finds more amusing: his daughter's newfound love for all things 80s or the intensely cheerful expression on Steve's face as he's trying to pretend he likes what he's seeing.

“You're not fooling anyone, Babe,” Danny whispers, only to earn himself a brief if pointed glare.

It's Steve's turn to gloat when the story's getting a bit more steamy and Danny tries to hold a hand in front of Grace's eyes. She snorts: “Seriously, Danno?”, giving him a look of pitying condescension, and his ears immediately turn beet-red, but he pulls his hand back.

Steve opens his mouth.

“Not. A word.” Danny hisses. He doesn't really follow the plot after that, since he's still struggling with the implications of his baby girl knowing things he wanted to keep her away from until her fiftieth birthday at the earliest. Steve notices his tense posture and gently kneads his shoulder until Danny relaxes against him, though he'll never be able to watch this movie again. Not that he'd want to.

Later, he raps his knuckles against the door jamb of Grace's (formerly Mary's) room: “Can I come in?”

Grace is sitting on the bed, brushing her hair: “Sure.”

He sits down next to her, hesitantly, and just looks at her sideways, uncertain how to proceed.

Grace shakes her head: “What is it?”

“Sorry about earlier.”

Now she grins: “It's alright.”

“No, it's not.” Danny's voice is soft. “You're not a little girl anymore, and I need to respect that. I don't have to like it, but... I should trust you to make your own experiences.”

Now Grace blushes, but she keeps his gaze: “It's just a movie, Danno.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Uhm, yeah.” She squirms a bit, and he's secretly glad that she does.

“Mom and I talked about all that already,” she says after a moment.

Danny nods: “I know. It's good that you did.”

They fall silent, then Danny gets to his feet: “I'm gonna leave you in peace. G'night.” He kisses his daughter and walks towards the door, but turns around once more: “Grace?”

“Yeah?”

“Let's not watch _Dirty Dancing_ together ever again.”

At that, Grace laughs, which never fails to be music in his ears: “Deal.”

 

Steve's just crawling under the covers as Danny walks into the bedroom. He quickly brushes his teeth and changes into his sleep things before joining his partner. Steve very much still looks as though he's trying not to laugh. Bastard.

Huffing, Danny turns his back towards him; only seconds later, the mattress quakes ever so slightly as Steve shimmies closer, scraping his stubbly chin over the thin cotton of his shirt and the sensitive skin of his neck, then nuzzles his ear with his lips: “I'd probably have done the same,” he says softly.

“You just want back into my good books so I'll cuddle you,” Danny replies grumpily.

“That too.” He can hear the smile in Steve's voice: “But apart from that- I was _this_ close to fast forwarding the scene.”

“You didn't even have the remote.”

“Doesn't matter. It's the principle of the thing.”

At that, Danny turns his head so that he can look at Steve: “Seriously?”

“Yep.”

Danny considers this for a moment before he turns around entirely so that they can wrap their arms around one another. With a sigh, Steve pulls him close and pushes one leg between his; it's his favourite way to fall asleep.

“I don't want her to grow up so fast,” Danny mutters into his t-shirt. Steve's hand runs gentle circles on his back: “I know,” he replies softly. “Can't do anything about that, though.”

“Nothing at all?”

“No. Sorry, Babe.” And now Steve can't stop himself from snickering any longer: “But at least you _tried_.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don't.” He presses a kiss on Danny's forehead, keeps his lips on Danny's skin until he feels the frown slowly abating.

“Steve.”

“Hm?”

“Next time Grace chooses a movie, you'll get the remote.”

“You said I wasn't allowed the remote ever again because it turned me into a sadistic dictator.”

“Which is true, but I think I can handle it better than Gracie watching... that.”

Steve smiles into Danny's hair: “I love you, Danno.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny replies, but he sounds less morose already. “Keep rubbing my back for a while?”

Which Steve does, and it doesn't take long for Danny to doze off.

“Silly old bear,” Steve mutters as he tightens his hold around him and closes his eyes.

 

 


	24. Nocturne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve comes home drunk. Initially, Danny is irritated.
> 
> (humour, fluff)

 

Danny wakes up from a loud crash and some muttered expletives before Steve stumbles in, far from his usual stealthy self. From what Danny can see in the relative darkness of the bedroom, Steve aims for the bathroom but veers a little too far to the left-

**Thud _._ **

“ _Ow_ , damn it! Who put that there!”

Sighing, Danny reaches for the bedside lamp and turns it on.

Steve, who is hopping on his right foot and holding the other in his hands, turns around to him and promptly loses his balance, stumbling again and landing smash bang right on top of Danny, who is propelled backwards by the momentum.

Steve then has the audacity to giggle. “Hi, Danno,” he says in a way he seems to think appealing.

Danny, who is being smothered by the roughly 190 pounds of SEAL on top of him, tries to push Steve off, at which he giggles even more: “Stop it, Danno, it tickles!”

“You're crushing me.”

“I've got a crush _on_ you!”

“You're also suffocating me, and I'm not talking about the Top Gun 'Take My Breath Away' variety.”

“For someone who's being crushed you're still talking a lot.”

“Shut up.”

“Only if you kiss me.”

“Still being crushed here...”

“Fine.” With a grunt, Steve rolls off Danny but doesn't let go; instead, he pulls his partner on top of him: “How's that!?”

“Five minutes ago, I was sleeping peacefully,” Danny grumbles but doesn't manage to sound as pissed off as he intended, since Steve, the bastard, always feels wonderful, even when he reeks of alcohol just as he's doing now, and Danny happens to like sleeping on him (apparently, SEALs are immune to being crushed by other beings). And it's nice to have Steve home; he's just not used to going to sleep alone anymore. So he turns off the lamp and shimmies a little until he's comfy, knowing that Steve is so buzzed that he won't last long anyway. Apparently, the reunion with his former team went well, judging by his state of happy inebriation.

“You're the cutest,” his already sleepy SEAL now mutters, wrapping his arms around his partner, “even when you're mad at me.”

“I'm not- oh, for heaven's sake!” Danny pushes himself up, using his toes for leverage, so that he can kiss Steve soundly.

“Better?”

“Much.” Closing his eyes, Steve smiles goofily: “G'night, Danno, my darling.”

Rolling his eyes, Danny settles back down: “Night, Babe.”

“Danno?”

“Hm?”

“So glad you've got me.”

Long after Steve's begun to snore softly, Danny is still listening to his heartbeat, a smile on his face.

 

 


	25. Boo-boo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's injured his knee.
> 
> (humour, banter)

 

“I'm getting old,” Steve says glumly, staring at his braced and elevated knee with a morose expression.

“It was an accident, Babe.” Danny sits down on the mattress and carefully arranges an ice pack on the knee, eliciting a small hiss from Steve, who tenses for a moment but then quickly relaxes: “That's amazing,” he breathes, sagging back against the pillows.

Danny nods: “I know.” He studies his partner, who's less pale by now and looks as though the medication has fully kicked in, smoothing out the telltale hard edge around his mouth.

Steve catches his gaze and gives him a lopsided smile: “I had no idea, Danno.”

“About what?”

“About the pain. About how much pain you were in when you injured your knee.”

“Really? My pinched expression and sudden intake of painkillers didn't hint at it?”

Steve sighs: “I'm sorry. I know I didn't take it serious enough at the time.”

Danny looks at him with a mock frown: “What's brought this on? Did you just realize that you're at my mercy for the next few days?”

“ _No_ , Danno, I just realized, when my freaking knee gave out today, what an agony it is and how I may have been a jerk about it.”

Danny's eyebrows rise to new heights: “Really?”

“Yep.”

"I'm proud of you, Babe, because to make this clear: you weren't only a jerk about it, you took being a jerk to a whole new level."

Steve grimaces: "I know."

“And you realized this all by yourself?”

At that, Steve's carefully contrite expression derails a little: “Yeah. No. Kono might have said 'I told you so'.”

"'kay... at least you didn't get hit on the head as well," Danny says. "But why would she do that?"

“Because back then she told me to stop calling your injury a boo-boo since it wasn't exactly a bagatelle. In fact, she offered to kick my knee so I'd have a frame of reference.”

“Awww, she did?”

“Yep. Very politely and with a smile and all, but I was living in secret terror of her for a while.”

“So that's why you stopped being a jerk about it.”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. I should probably buy Kono some flowers.”

“You mad?”

Danny sighs: “No, I'm not mad. It's years ago and we weren't even... an item back then.” And they've gone through so much in the meantime that it seems like a triviality in hindsight.

Steve grins a little goofily: “Good. Next time you've got knee trouble, I'll be commendably supportive.”

“There won't be a next time, hopefully. But thanks.”

Steve reaches for him: “Come here?”

So Danny toes off his shoes and scoots closer to Steve, mindful not to jostle the mattress too much. With another sigh, Steve rests his head on Danny's shoulder: “You're the best, Danno.”

“Can I have that in writing?”

“You can have it in kisses.”

“Oh boy.” But Danny's smiling nevertheless.

 

 


	26. Two-way Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are exhausted after a long week. 
> 
> (humour, fluff)

 

Steve always keeps a couple of Longboards in the little fridge in his office because there are cases which need a special kind of closure, the kind which comes with the reminder of how strong their little ohana is and what they are capable of as a team.

This has been such a case, and now, after days of frantic activity, days which eventually blurred together because even Steve can't recall when he last slept, they are gathered in his office and quietly toast to one another, too exhausted to talk much.

“I'm so looking forward to my shower,” Chin mumbles. “I love my shower. I think I'll sleep in my shower.”

Grinning tiredly, Kono leans her head back against the couch: “If you drown, I'm gonna tell you I told you so.”

Chin inclines his head: “I'll take that risk.”

“I just hope Mrs Grover's saved me some of that roast she was making,” Lou grumbles. “Last year, when we got called out.”

“She forgiven you for forgetting her birthday?” Steve asks.

Lou grimaces: “Hell, McGarrett, way to ruin a man's hopes!”

The others chuckle quietly; the only one who remains silent is Danny. At a closer look, he appears to have fallen asleep where he's sitting in his corner of the couch, eliciting another round of amused laughter, but he doesn't wake up.

"It'd be so easy to draw a moustache on his face like this," Kono says dreamily, at which the others are barely able to contain their mirth.

 

Once everyone's drained their beers and left, Steve shuts down his computer and walk over to the couch, gently shaking Danny's shoulder: “Hey, Buddy,” he says softly. “Wake up.”

Danny startles awake, blinking: “I'm awake,” he mutters, lifting one hand to rub over his eyes. “We going home?”

“Yeah,” Steve takes his hand and pulls him to his feet. “You okay?”

“Yeah. You need me to drive?”

Steve bites back a grin because Danny doesn't even seem to be able to properly open his eyes: "Nah, thanks. I'm good."

Steve keeps his hand on Danny's arm as they make their way to the car, and he doesn't protest. Outside, it's getting dark, and Steve does feel the pull of his own fatigue as he guides Danny to the passenger door. Once they're rolling, it doesn't take Danny two seconds to fall asleep again, and Steve glances at him a few times, unaware that he's smiling.

At the house, he steers Danny up the stairs and into the bedroom. Danny however grabs him by his shirt: “Come on, I'll put some salve on your shoulder,” he mutters, though his eyelids are drooping again.

“That's okay,” Steve replies, touched, “you're too tired, Danno.”

“Nonsense,” Danny says and tugs him into the bathroom, “'s just a minute. You'll be more comfortable that way.”

Admittedly, Steve's a little banged up, so he complies. He actually enjoys his partner's gentle ministrations, even if Danny is a little clumsy right now, testimony of how groggy he is.

"You need some painkillers?" he mumbles when he's done and washing his hands.

"No," Steve steps behind him and embraces him, rubbing his cheek against Danny's neck just beneath his ear: "Only need you."

Danny just smiles at him sleepily in the mirror.

They are both relieved to be finally crawling into bed, and Danny, once he's burrowed his nose into Steve's bare chest and is safely ensconced in Steve's arms, immediately drops off again.

Steve kisses his partner's forehead as he closes his eyes, happy that he is with him.


	27. Radiation sickness #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's radiation sickness is acting up again. Good thing Eddie was there...
> 
> (hurt/comfort, angst)

 

Danny is just pouring boiling water into the French press when he hears Eddie bounding into the house. He doesn't head for his breakfast though but comes to a halt in front of Danny, albeit not sitting down; the whole dog is vibrating as he yaps once, twice, in a way that says something's wrong. Danny doesn't hesitate but immediately moves. So does Eddie, and Danny follows him out of the house and down to the beach, heart hammering in his chest.

Steve is a wet heap in the shallow water, unsuccessfully trying to push himself up on his arms; unthinkingly, Danny rushes to his side, not caring about his shoes or his clothes, and supports him. Steve is pale and trembling and his skin is clammy despite the fact that he just swam his usual morning miles.

“I've got you,” Danny all but babbles because this isn't something he'll ever be prepared for, Steve being vulnerable. “You'll be okay. Come on, I've got you...” And he manages to get Steve in a more or less upright position, slings his arm around his shoulders and walks them out of the water.

“Sorry,” Steve slurs, leaning on Danny heavily, and he is shaking so hard by now that Danny is shaking as well. They have almost reached the lanai when Steve doubles over and retches, and Danny, after a moment of regaining his own balance, quickly holds on to him while he throws up. Afterwards, Steve staggers on the spot, breathing heavily. Danny reinforces his grip around him, steers him into the house and straight to the downstairs bathroom, where he quickly wraps a towel around Steve before he eases him down so that he can lean against the wall; he doesn't trust him to stay upright otherwise.

With trembling hands, Danny wets a flannel and hands it to Steve, who wipes at his mouth with uncoordinated movements while Danny wets another flannel, crouches down next to him and puts it on Steve's neck.

“Just breathe,” he tells him, “take your time, Babe.”

Steve reaches for Danny's hand, holding on to it while he tries to do as he's told, tries to will the remnants of the nausea away, gazing at Danny with heavily lidded eyes. His head increasingly feels like someone's put it into a vice, and he can't say what's worse.

Eddie, who's been right at their heels the whole time, now noses at him, and Steve manages a weak smile: “Hey, Buddy... Thank you...”

“So what happened?” Danny asks gently, one hand on Steve's shoulder.

“I dunno...” Steve swallows, and his voice is strained as he talks:“I's fine when I went into the water. Felt a bit off after a while, so I turned around. Eddie pulled me along the last few minutes.”

Danny refrains from pinching the bridge of his nose because Steve doesn't need a lecture right now, but his knees grow weak at hearing this nevertheless. He reaches out and strokes Eddie's still wet head: “Good boy,” he murmurs, his eyes still on Steve, who's ghastly pale. “Is it only the nausea or something else?”

“Headache.”

“'kay,” Danny replies, softly. “I'll go and get your meds. Will you be alright for a moment?”

“'Course,” Steve mutters, sounding a little annoyed that Danny even asks. The latter gets to his knees without a comment: as long as his partner's still got some fight in him, he can be left to his own devices for a few minutes.

For a while there, Danny seriously debated calling an ambulance, but this isn't the first time something like this happened ever since Steve's been diagnosed with radiation poisoning; admittedly, it was the first time it happened during his morning swim, and he's just glad that Eddie was there and has such good instincts. Danny has seen videos of dogs pulling people in distress out of the water, which seemed utterly awesome and endearing. Right now though, he only feels terror at the notion of what could happened if Eddie hadn't been there. Since Steve is too stubborn for his own good and would never consider not going swimming anymore, one thing is clear: Danny'll buy Eddie a life-vest.

He finds Steve's meds in the mirror cabinet upstairs and takes them and a glass of water back to his partner. Then he sits down with him again so that Steve can lean against him as well, and they wait, quietly; the small clock above the mirror ticking the seconds away and Eddie's occasional snuffling being the only sounds in the small room.

Twenty minutes later, Steve says he'd like to get up, and though he's still shaky, they make it up the stairs and into the bedroom without further incidents. Once Steve's finally dressed in dry clothes and has lain down on the bed, Danny takes off his own drenched shoes and clothes, then he dries off Eddie because of course the dog wants to join Steve on the bed. As soon as he's stretched out next to Steve, the former SEAL puts his arm around him for comfort. He is leaning against the headboard still looking wan, therefore Danny goes to find a bucket which he puts next to the bed before calling Lou and telling him that Steve's a bit under the weather today and they won't come in this morning.

Lou isn't one to pry, just says they should call if they need anything; from the tone of Danny's voice he can tell what this is about.

Steve appears to have dozed off when Danny comes back in, a glass of watered down ginger ale in his hand. He puts it on the nightstand, then takes out his phone again and opens the memo folder: he's keeping tabs on Steve's bouts, has so far jotted down the date and details of every single one. Steve reacted with amused consternation when he found out, but he didn't protest. Maybe it's good to know how frequently it happens, maybe the doctors will find the data useful. Not that either Danny or he talk about the implications of this, but there is the elephant in the room, after all. The big c, as Steve calls it; Danny doesn't call it anything, but he's lying awake at times, worrying. Keeping tabs is helping him, weirdly enough, gives him the illusion that they're controlling at least _some_ thing.

When he's done, he puts the phone down and just looks at Steve, the dark smudges underneath his eyes, the fine lines around his mouth, and his heart constricts. This man is infuriating and endearing, has won Danny's heart so effortlessly- he wants to grow old with him, wants to keep him close because his touch and his scent and his voice are things he needs in his life.

He reaches up and gently caresses Steve's cheek with the back of his fingers, and Steve's mouth quirks up at that ever so slightly: “Danno,” he slurs without really waking up.

"I'm here, Baby," Danny says, barely getting the words out and blinking furiously, but there's nothing he can do about the sudden moisture in his eyes.

 

 

 


	28. The Kids Are Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's had a bad day. He's lucky to have ~~an ogre~~ two knights and a princess who are looking after him.
> 
> (hurt/comfort, fluff)

 

Balancing two large grocery bags, Steve pushes the front door close with his foot and greets Eddie, whose body is wagging: “Were you waiting for me, Baby?”

“Hey,” just then a voice he didn't expect says- well, not now at least, since Danny and Charlie weren't supposed to be home yet.

Steve turns around: “Hey,” he replies, but the question he wants to ask dies on his tongue as he takes in what he sees: Charlie is lying on the couch with his head in Danny's lap; his knees are elevated on a cushion and both have got large band-aids. Danny has obviously been reading to his son (“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”), holding the book in one hand while Charlie is clutching the other, which is resting on the boy's belly. Rolie, Charlie's stuffed elephant, is firmly wedged under his arm. His eyes are puffy and his expression is grave; on the coffee table, there's a half empty glass with some fizzy drink Charlie isn't allowed too often, and it's even got a straw in it, emphasizing the severity of the situation.

In one fluid motion, Steve puts the grocery bags on the floor and crouches down next to Charlie: “Hey, Buddy,” he says softly, stroking his cheek with two fingers. “What happened?”

At that, Charlie immediately tears up again: “I fell when we played tag at school.”

Steve exchanges a brief glance with Danny and his heart swells with love: “Oh man, that's nasty. Happened to me too when I was your age.”

Charlie sniffles: “Did you cry?”

“Yes, I did.” Back then, skinned knees were the worst kind of pain he could imagine.

“Danno says he cried too.”

Steve smiles: “I think everyone does when they fall on their knees, it just hurts so badly.”

Charlie nods: “My palms hurt too. But they didn't bleed.”

Steve puts his hand on top of his and Danny's, stroking Charlie's wrist with his thumb: “Oh man,” he repeats. “Well, at least I've bought ice-cream.”

At that, Charlie perks up a bit.

Danny, who's been silent all the while, smiles at Steve: “Thank you,” he murmurs, putting the book down and running his hand through Charlie's hair.

When the school called him because Charlie wouldn't stop crying and kept asking for him, his heart positively stopped beating for a moment, or so it felt. He knew it was irrational to be terrified because of a minor accident, but he broke the speed limit on his way to the school nevertheless (something Steve mustn't know. Ever.). He had to take several deep breaths on his way in; Charlie needed him calm, after all. But it was difficult to remain composed when he entered the nurse's room and found his little son a picture of misery and drenched in tears.

When he lifted him in his arms and felt Charlie hold on to him for dear life while he sobbed into his shirt, he was trembling himself.

 

It doesn't take long for Steve to come back with a large bowl of ice-cream and three spoons; Danny helps Charlie to sit up and lean against him, then Steve very carefully lifts his legs and puts them over his own after sitting down.

Charlie gets to hold the bowl. “Nice and cold for your hands, huh?” Steve asks while he's motioning for Eddie, who sniffs the air interestedly, to sit.

“Yes. Thank you, Stevie.” Charlie sighs, still much quieter than he usually is. He's probably disappointed because skinned knees mean no swimming for a few days, and Steve has promised to take him out on his paddle board.

A moment later, Eddie jumps up again, and then they hear a car outside; soon afterwards, Grace comes in. Rachel's picked her up from her dance class and dropped her off, and she looks a little tired now.

“Hello, Monkey,” Danny greets her, and they share a smile.

Charlie cranes his neck: “Hey, Gracie,” he says gravely.

She drops her satchel and looks her little brother over while she scratches Eddie behind his ears: “What happened to you, Piggy?”

“I fell,” Charlie says, his voice quivering a little once more.

“Aww,” Gracie squeezes herself in between Danny and the arm rest, leaning over to kiss Charlie's head: “Did you trip?”

“I don't know. It all happened so fast.”

Danny needs to avoid looking at Steve right then; biting back a laugh, he hands Grace his spoon instead: “How's dancing today?“

“Good,” she leans against him. “Exhausting. This is delicious, what is it?”

“Rocky Road Swirl or something,” Steve replies.

“Hm.” She sighs and closes her eyes for a moment, and Danny puts his arm around her; it's calm and grounding after the commotion earlier, just sitting on the couch like this and eating ice-cream. Steve seems to be enjoying it as well, judging from the goofily content look on his face.

 

“You'll feel much better when you wake up tomorrow morning,” Danny tells Charlie that night as he puts him to bed.

“But I can't go into the water, Danno.”

Danny regards him fondly:“You can if you don't go in too deep. We could visit the tide pools and look for hermit crabs.”

At that, Charlie lightens up considerably: “Yes, please!”

“Okay.” Danny kisses him goodnight: “You're very brave, Squirrel.”

Charlie winds his arms around his neck and holds on to him tightly: “Just like you?”

“Oh, you're much braver than I am.”

Giggling, Charlie lets go of him: “Good night, Danno.”

“Sleep well, Baby.”

Grace comes in to say goodnight just as Danny's about to leave the room.

“We'll go to the tide pools tomorrow,” Danny hears Charlie telling her excitedly.

“Cool! You can take my old dip net if you like. It's in the shed somewhere.”

“Thank you, Gracie!”

Danny pauses just outside the door because he loves how gentle Grace sometimes is with Charlie.

“Scoot over,” she now says, and then it sounds as though she's snuggling up with her brother.

“Can you tell me a story?” Charlie asks.

“What kind of story?”

“A story with a knight.”

“Like a fairy tale?”

“Yes. And Danno's the knight. And Stevie's a knight too.”

“Do I get to be a princess?”

“You can decide that, Gracie, it's your story.”

“Alright, Mr Smartypants...”

 

In the kitchen, Steve has just opened a bottle of wine: “Charlie okay?”

“Yes. He's fine.” Danny leans against him for a moment, pushing his face into Steve's chest and inhaling deeply for a moment.

“ _You_ okay?” Steve now asks softly, nosing at Danny's forehead.

“Yeah.” Danny takes another deep breath before he straightens up: “Love you,” he murmurs, smiling at Steve with the corners of his mouth.

His partner returns the smile, then he pulls Danny closer again for a kiss: “Love you too.”

With a glass of wine each and their arms still around one another, they return to the couch because it's _that_ kind of evening.

 

Grace joins them half an hour later: “Charlie's all excited about the tide pools and crabs,” she says, dropping into the reclining chair. “And I just told him a bedtime story which had both of you in it.”

Steve, who's been close to dozing with his head on Danny's shoulder, opens one eye: “Really? As what?”

“As an ogre, most likely,” Danny quips.

Steve makes a face at him: “Gracie knows better than that,” he says airily, winking at her: “Right?”

Grace just grins and raises her eyebrows.

“Thank you for looking after Charlie,” Danny then says softly, at which she shrugs: “No biggie.” But to Danny, it is; he's grateful that his kids love each other, that Grace, despite her raging teenager hormones and the considerable difference in age still loves being Charlie's big sister. Especially on days like these.

“You're the best, Monkey,” he tells her now, and she actually blushes, then she quickly shrugs: “Well, I'm a princess, after all.”

 

 

 


	29. Terms of Endearment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie and the whole nickname business.
> 
> (humour)

 

“Look, Danno!” Charlie proudly waves at his father from the paddle board he's standing on, which is held by Steve. He's in the water up to his waist, and he and Charlie have made a deal: if Charlie practices how to swim, he'll get to do stand up paddling with Steve afterwards.

Danny waves back, smiling and shielding his eyes from the sun with his other hand: “You're doing great, Squirrel!”

“Thank you, Danno,” Steve answers with a grin, at which Charlie laughs so hard that he nearly loses his balance: “He didn't mean you, Stevie!”

“What? Are you sure?”

“He doesn't call you _Squirrel_ , he calls you _Babe_ ,” Charlie clarifies rather matter-of-factly now. “And sometimes _Neonthal_ or something.”

Steve bites back a laugh: “You're right, he does.”

“What's a Neonthal?”

Steve considers this: “It's a person who hasn't learned how to behave properly.”

“Why does Danno call you that?”

“Because he likes to tease me.”

“Why?

“Oh, you know, we both like to joke around like that.”

“Mommy says it's bad to call people names.”

“And she's right. But if it's your best friend and he knows that you are only joking, it's okay.”

“Or if it's your sister?”

“That too.”

“Huh.” Charlie looks pensive.

 

Two days later, Danny gets a text from Grace: _Charlie just called me a 'Neonthal'. Explain, please?_

Steve can't stop laughing all evening.

 

 

 

 


	30. Owing To Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, it's more than just the bickering.
> 
> (Humour, fluff.)

 

Inspired by this gif (which isn't mine):

 

 

 

 

 

Danny and Steve are making faces at each other. Again. Chin folds his arms across his chest, amused: they've been bickering all morning, and now this. On a scale of one to ten, it's an eleven, which hasn't happened in months, and Chin's pretty sure what's caused it: Ty Jackson, a former team mate of Steve's is in town, and the instant camaraderie associated with their old bond is too much for Danny, who is undeniably irritable because of all the 'SEAL speak' as he calls it, which uncomfortably reminds him of Nick Taylor. And since Danny's crabby, Steve's crabby too. So they've been at each other's throats since they came in.

To pretty much everyone's relief, Steve's got a meeting with the governor in the early afternoon; since Five-0's just wrapped up a case and haven't caught another one yet, Danny spends the rest of the day doing paperwork, grumbling under his breath from time to time as he works at his desk. Kono thinks she's heard him mutter "what kind of name is _Ty_ anyway" and immediately brings him some fresh coffee for consolation.

Just as they are thinking about calling it a day that evening, a phone call comes in, and a moment later, Steve motions for the team to gather round the tech table.

Turns out it's one of those cases everyone but their intrepid leader is less than thrilled about because it involves a manhunt on foot through rough terrain, at night at that. The sensible thing would be to wait until first light, of course, but the man they're pursuing has a hostage, a little girl, and all of this uncomfortably reminds them of the time when the Aloha Girls' camping trip was cut short by an idiot with a gun. Back then however, as Steve correctly points out, he was one of the hostages and therefore able to keep the situation from derailing (Danny rolls his eyes at that, but who's he to disillusion his partner). This time, it's a little more complicated, and on top of that, it's raining.

“It's like the Tough Mudder all over again,” Danny grumbles as he slips in the mud for the third time in two minutes. They'd have had to give up long ago because any tracks are quickly being destroyed in this kind of weather, but Steve has them pressing on nevertheless because they're tracking the guy's cell phone via satellite. It's unclear whether he's just stupid or so deranged that he doesn't realize he's leaving an electronic trail; either way, he's dangerous, and they have to be careful not to get too close before he notices he's being followed; apparently, he's under the illusion that the little girl is his daughter, and her mother is afraid that he might kill her as a last resort. So yeah, it's a really crappy night.

 

The first twilight of the new morning is already filtering through the branches of the trees when they finally apprehend the guy and make sure the little girl is alive, if terribly shaken and slightly hypothermic. She clings to Kono, sobbing uncontrollably; the rain has abated somewhat by now, yet all of them are relieved when they hear the helo approaching.

They actually do look like they just participated in another Tough Mudder race when they arrive back at HQ, where Grover and Jerry are waiting for them. They keep the debriefing short because they're all knackered, apart from longing for a shower. The atmosphere is relaxed nevertheless, since they're all relieved that the girl is alive and none of them has been injured for once. To Chin's delight, Steve and Danny seem to have buried their hatchet, or maybe it's because Ty Jackson is going to leave today: either way, despite being encrusted in mud and dirt they seek one another's physical closeness as they always do when they're tired, which Kono and Chin have long since noticed.

On their way out, Steve puts his arm around Danny: “How about we sleep all day and watch a movie tonight?”

“Sounds good,” Danny mutters. “Don't forget the food though. We could order a pizza.”

“Hm.” Steve's tone is agreeable. "The new place around the corner makes an amazing Pizza Hawaii."

Since Steve's obviously just messing with him, Danny turns his head towards his partner and scrunches up his nose at him, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“Oh, the harmony,” Kono hums under her breath with a sideways glance at her cousin, who grins: “We should throw them into the mud more often.” There's no need to mention any former team mates, after all.

“Yeah. Lou, you still got that pool?”

“I heard that,” Steve throws over his shoulder.

“Good,” Kono retorts, “so you won't be too surprised.”

“I only borrowed it,” Lou now says. “But you know what- I might just buy a new one.”

 

 


	31. Given (S06e25)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attempt to fix the ending of "O Ke Ali'i Wale No Ka'u Makemake"/"My Desire Is Only for the Chief".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest snippet ever; after re-watching the episode, I got angry again. So much amazing build-up and then such a lousy, terrible, non-credible ending. 
> 
> Apart from that, I wasn't too impressed with the medical background either. So this happened. I'm not a medical expert either, but I did a lot of research, so hopefully, this isn't too far from reality (strictly speaking, after all I've read, Steve couldn't have continued working with Five-0 at all after this).

 

Day 1

Kono is biting her nails. It's a habit she's given up years ago, but right now, she doesn't care that she'll be annoyed about it later: it's either this or breaking out in tears. They've been waiting for five hours now, and she's already counted the little dots on the curtains three times. She should probably talk to Grace, reassure her that her dad will be okay, but she doesn't have any words left. And anyway, who's she to make promises she doesn't know she can keep?

Right then however, a nurse comes into the waiting room: “Family of Detective Williams?”

Everyone rises to their feet, at which she seems a little taken aback for a moment, but then she smiles: “He's out of surgery. The procedure went well, and his vitals are stable.”

There's a low murmur of collective relief, but then Lou asks the inevitable: “What about Steve? Commander McGarrett?”

“He's still in surgery, sir.” She looks apologetic, but it figures: due to the nature of his wounds and the transplant on top of it, it will probably take a while longer.

Grace now asks if she can see her dad.

“How about I'll come and get you once he's settled in the surgical intensive care unit?” the nurse says. Grace nods, looking a bit defeated, and sits down again.

It's Kamekona who takes a seat next to her: “Don't you worry, Keiki,” he says, patting her arm. “It all sounds scary, but your dad's gonna be okay. He's a tough little guy.”

Grace smiles a bit at that: “Yeah,” she mutters. If she weren't so worried, she'd find it funny that he calls Danno 'little'. As it is, she's too scared to even think about it.

 

When she's finally allowed to see Danno at eleven at night, her mother, who just arrived, is coming with her. They make an exception since Grace is a minor, and she's glad about it because her dad does look small, surrounded by machines as he is and appearing too lifeless despite the steady beeping sounds in the background. He's asleep and doesn't wake up during the five minutes she's been granted, but she takes his hand nevertheless, which at least is warm. “I love you, Danno,” she says softly. “Please be okay.”

Rachel wordlessly puts her arm around her, and Grace leans against her, grateful for her presence.

 Her mom subsequently takes Grace home because it's getting late and there's no point for her to be waiting for news on Steve when it could well last into the morning; Kono promises her to text her as soon as they hear anything.

 

 

Danny's lying on his back and he isn't ready to wake up; his eyes feel like they're glued shut, and he's still so tired. But someone's talking, and by rights he should be able to understand what they say and possibly even answer back. He can't though, since he doesn't have the energy to keep himself from drifting off again.

The next thing he knows is that he's blinking, still lying on his back, and that he feels kind of floaty. He tries to move but isn't sure whether he succeeded, and then there's a face looming into view, a pretty stranger: “Detective Williams?”

Danny wants to ask her who she is, but his throat doesn't work either; it feels vaguely sore.

“Don't try to speak yet,” she says as she elevates the head of the bed a little. He really likes the lilt in her voice; the movement, not so much. But then she feeds him an ice-chip, which feels heavenly and makes him aware of how thirsty he is.

“My name is Ailani. You're in surgical intensive care right now,” she tells him.

Danny blinks; it takes him a while to remember, but six ice-chips later, bits and pieces are coming back to him, most prominently: landing a plane on a beach, but he's got a nagging feeling that that's not why he's here. Neither is it because of that burning helicopter, and what's that got to do with anything? He doesn't know. His thoughts are too sluggish anyway, and his eyes are growing heavy again. Maybe he'll take another nap.

 

 

Day 2

Danny comes around several times during the following day, but the first time he is relatively lucid is in the evening. Ailani is on duty again, but he doesn't recall her from before, in fact, doesn't have any recollection of having been awake before. Or of the events which lead to his being here. There's a dull ache somewhere, but he seems barely attached to his body at the moment.

“'s bad?” he croaks.

“Oh, no, on the contrary,” she says, “the surgery went very well and your vitals are looking good.”

“Surgery?” Danny really hasn't the foggiest idea what has happened.

“You donated half of your liver to your colleague, Commander McGarrett,” Ailani says sympathetically.

Danny blinks: what? Why did Steve need- he blinks again. Sees Steve, white-faced and full of blood. Hears him say that he's dying. His stomach drops unpleasantly, and he panics: he barely registers that his heart-rate is speeding up, but Ailani puts a comforting hand on his arm even while he asks after his partner.

“He's out of surgery now, resting in the adjoining cubicle,” she says.

“He okay?” Danny feels even weaker than before.

“He's still critical, but his vitals are stable for now,” Ailani says, careful not to tell him too much because she doesn't want to upset him further; he's been through his own ordeal, after all.

Danny briefly closes his eyes; he's trembling, he can still see the blood, Steve's pale face. It seems like a miracle that he survived. “He okay?” he asks again, just to make sure.

“Yes,” Ailani says, “he is. Don't you worry.”

But Danny does, right until he falls asleep again.

 

 

Day 3

On the following morning, Danny wants to see Steve and is being told that he can't because he has to stay in bed and Steve, who hasn't woken up yet, apparently isn't allowed any visitors yet anyway to keep the risk of infection to a minimum; Steve's immune system is currently being inhibited by immunosuppressive drugs, after all, to prevent a rejection of the new organ. His vitals continue to 'look promising' however, as the nurse puts it, which should reassure Danny but doesn't; not as long as he hasn't seen Steve for himself. He briefly considers trying to get out of bed, since it's not far anyway, but as it is, he can't even sit up on his own and his whole body is aching dully at that; while he is still pondering the matter, he dozes off again.

Kono, who comes by later that morning, flat out refuses to sneak pictures of Steve with her phone, though Danny tells her she'll just need to look insconspicuous while surreptitiously sticking her arm through the curtain and snap a few.

“We've done worse things,” he reminds her, but she shakes her head: “Not doing it, brah.”

 

 

Day 4

The doctor wants Danny to get up and walk for a bit, and while he is all for it, his legs are rather uncooperative as two nurses are getting him to his feet, and he can feel his wound and, even worse, his ribs. As it happens, walking up and down the corridor at snail speed takes all Danny currently has. He's white-faced and trembling by the time he's being settled back into bed, and he doesn't like the sensation of feeling like an old man at all, or the considerable amount of pain which only subsides once he's been lying still for a few minutes, despite the meds. But if he can walk, he can hopefully see Steve as soon as he's allowed visitors, therefore he bites back his complaints. Well, would have, if he hadn't been winded anyway.

Grace and Rachel come by that afternoon; he didn't know they were here before, but he's basking in their combined concern and affection. Things have been rocky enough with his ex-wife after the whole Charlie debacle; he didn't know he'd forgiven her until now, but apparently, he has. At least he hopes it's that and not some weird seeking-for-mother-substitute stuff because he's just survived a plane crash and whatnot. Hell, he can always blame it on the drugs.

And it reminds him: “Did anyone call my parents?”

“Yes,” Rachel said, “though it actually was the other way round. They saw the story on the news and called us.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Scoop of the year for the tabloids too, apparently- 'Hero Cop Saves Partner's Life' and similar headlines.”

“You were on TV,” Grace now says. “And the press called our house.”

Danny frowns: “I'm sorry...”

“It's okay.” Rachel smiles sardonically. “Back to topic, though: your mom wanted to get on the first available plane, but she calmed down somewhat after I told her you're not in any immediate danger anymore.”

“Thank you,” Danny is relieved. His phone is dead by now and he didn't really need it during the past few days. And he admittedly actually forgot to worry about his family, what with Steve and his own recovery going on.

“I told Clara that you'll call her as soon as you're allowed to,” Rachel now says with a wink.

“Do you want us to get a few things from the house?” Grace asks. “Your toothbrush and some clothes, maybe?”

“Yes, please,” Danny is amazed by her once more because when did she grow up so much? “And the charger for my phone.”

“'kay.” She smiles at him: “Anything for our hero.”

Danny scrunches up his nose at her. At least that doesn't hurt.

"Did anyone call Steve's sister?" he then wants to know.

Rachel and Grace don't know anything about that, but they promise to ask at the nurse's station.

 

That night, Steve wakes up for the first time, as Ailani tells Danny with a wide smile.

“How's he doing?” he asks.

“He's taking his time, coming around,” Ailani says. “And then he'll need some time to deal with the traumata, considering the massive blood loss on top of everything else.”

“Can I see him?”

“He isn't cleared for visitors yet.”

Danny huffs; patience has never been his strong suit. He's considering shouting, but he doesn't think he's got it in himself right now.

 

 

Day 5

Danny is constantly being told that he's doing fine, that his vitals are good and constantly improving, that the rest of his liver is working splendidly. But he doesn't feel fine, he misses Steve. He misses him with an intensity that is affecting his sleep and his appetite. Well, not that he's missing out on much there, considering the bland hospital food, but he's miserable all the same. Which Kono notices during her visit, of course, so when she leaves, she goes to talk to the nurse on duty and asks her if they really can't make an exception, let Danny look at Steve at least.

Therefore, once Steve is awake that afternoon, Danny can hardly believe his luck when Opal, the nurse who walks with him, steers him towards Steve's cubicle and pulls the curtain aside for him to look in.

Steve blinks at him, and to Danny, he looks still terrible, but he is so happy to see his partner that he can't but smile broadly: “Hey, Buddy,” he says, waving a little.

A faint smile flits across Steve's exhausted face: “D'nno,” he mutters. He seems too tired to stay awake, and really, his eyes are already closing again. Opal closes the curtain but it's okay, Danny's so relieved and happy that he doesn't protest.

 

 

Day 8

Once Steve's strong enough to stay awake for longer periods of time, Danny is allowed to see him again. The nurse brings a wheelchair for him since he's still too weak and tottery to remain standing for too long; after she's arranged his IV's, she takes him into Steve's cubicle.

Steve's got dark bruises underneath his eyes and his skin tone is still rather matching the sheets, but he almost manages full sentences today: “Hey Danno,” he murmurs. His voice is not up to its usual strength yet.

Danny smiles, once more overwhelmed with relief, and reaches for Steve's hand: “Hey, Babe,” he replies, suddenly choked. “It's so good to see you!”

Steve's gaze meanders over his partner's face: “You hurt?”

It takes Danny a moment to realize that Steve probably doesn't know about his liver, and he isn't sure if this is the right moment; plus, the nurse warned him not to upset Steve.

“Not as badly as you were,” he manages, which Steve seems content with for now. Well, he's still pretty much out of it, judging by his glazed eyes; no surprise, considering how drugged up he is.

 

Mary arrives that afternoon; after she's visited her brother, she comes to see Danny too; she's been crying, obviously, and she hugs Danny and thanks him for saving Steve's life.

"He's saved my life countless times," he mutters, at which Mary looks proud, but then she shakes her head: "Other people have harmless jobs," she says.

"Other people aren't Steve."

 "I know."

 

 

Day 9

The nurses make Steve get up and walk a few feet as well, which means he totters along even slower than Danny did at first. The latter has in the meantime been moved to a step-down unit, which bothers him in so far as he's further away from his partner, but at least he's allowed to visit him now.

Therefore he watches from his wheelchair as Steve returns to his bed on his own two feet: “Well done,” he cheers him on, “you almost didn't look like a newborn giraffe.”

Steve is rather worn out from the exertion, therefore he just grunts in annoyance; his body has never felt so alien to him. In fact, he feels dizzy and vaguely queasy now. He lies back and tries to will it away, concentrates on Danny. Who is still receiving intravenous fluids for some reason, and who looks pale and worn himself. Steve frowns: “What happened, Danno? Why are you still here?”

Danny exchanges a look with the nurse; the surgeon has already informed Steve about the precise nature of his injuries and the liver transplant, but so far, no one's told him who the donor was, and Steve didn't ask; he had a lot to process already.

Danny fidgets a little but immediately stills because his healing ribs are still tender; he still isn't sure if his partner is well enough to digest this kind of news, but on the other hand, he doesn't want to lie to him.

His gaze wanders over Steve's face once before he answers: “You remember how we found out that our blood types are the same? Well... you needed a liver...” He falls silent and lets Steve comprehend what he just said.

He looks at Danny with furrowed brows, blinking: “You... _you_ gave me your liver?”

Danny shrugs in slow-motion so as not to upset his ribs again: “Not the whole thing.”

Steve doesn't look amused. “Why?”

“Why- yours was torn to shreds, apparently, and it was the easiest solution.”

“But what about your kids?”

“What about them?”

“Or your sisters? What if any of them need a liver one day?”

Danny stares at him: “Seriously?”

“Yes.” Steve sounds belligerent and very much as though he'd like to fold his arms in front of his chest.

“But that's ridiculous,” Danny says. “I mean, what are the odds? And at any rate, I'd still have given you my liver, Steve.”

“Maybe someone else-”

Danny begins to feel angry. “There was no one else,” he says, slowly and carefully. “You were dying, Steve. The longer it'd have taken to test everyone for compatibility, the lesser your chances.” His voice is brittle now: “I didn't exactly have a choice.”

Steve looks at him: “Okay,” he then says slowly. “Okay.” His gaze lingers on Danny for a moment before he closes his eyes. And keeps them closed.

Danny waits for a few minutes, but when it becomes clear that Steve doesn't want to talk any more, he just waits to be taken back to his room.

 

 

Day 11

Opal, the nurse, informs Danny that Steve will be moved to the step-down unit as well: “Took him a while longer because of the multitude of his injuries,” she says. “And he's made a deal with Dr. Cornett: you two are getting to share a room, if you agree to that.”

“We are?”

“Yes. Usually, you'd be moved to a normal post-surgical ward by now, but the doctor deems it beneficial for Commander McGarrett's recovery that he's with you.”

All the little alarm bells in Danny's head are ringing at once: “Why, what's wrong with him?”

“Nothing is wrong with him,” Opal says soothingly. “He was a little subdued ever since he learned about the precise nature of his injuries, and... well, about you being the donor. It might be good for him if he sees how well you're doing.”

Danny frowns; Steve did see him, after all, but on the previous day, he barely looked at Danny. “Well, if you think so...” he mutters.

“Don't worry,” Opal says. “He's been seen by a counsellor, which isn't unusual with organ recipients. We'll also have someone come and talk to him about the changes and consequences which he is facing.”

Oh boy. Danny thinks that being the leader of a task force and Steve's general proclivity for havoc seem a less than ideal prerequisite. Well, at least he's not going back to work so soon, if Danny's internet research he did on his phone is correct: Steve won't even be allowed to do any sports in the next three months. He'll probably go berserk. Danny's already had his own talk, and he'll probably be back at work about six weeks from now, though he won't be chasing after any suspects so soon either.

 

Steve still looks drawn and broody when they wheel him in. Once everything's set up and the staff has left the room, Danny looks at his partner: “Hey, Babe. I'm glad you're joining me here.”

Steve turns his face towards him: “How are you doing?”

“I'm good. Missed you.”

A minuscule smile flits across Steve's face at that. “Danno,” he murmurs, then closes his eyes.

 

That night, Chin and Lou come to visit: the number of people allowed to see them at a time is still limited, no matter if Five-0 has got some pull with governor.

“The paparazzi are relentless,” Chin says, shaking his head. “Some of them even camped out in front of the hospital. They had to increase security and all.”

“Why?” Steve and Danny ask simultaneously.

“Seriously?” Lou raises one eyebrow. “Didn't you see any news? You're the top story, my friends. If Danny ever intended to run for president, now's the moment. You're a hero, my boy, big time!”

“I thought it had died down by now,” Danny says, somewhat uncomfortable. He didn't watch any news even though the room does have a TV; he's been too caught up in his own thoughts.

Steve looks from him to Chin and Lou: “Did I miss something here?”

They exchange a glance, silently debating if Steve is up to the full story yet, but then Chin shrugs: “Danny landed that plane on the beach, and then he gave you his liver. He saved you twice on one day.”

Danny's ears are turning pink: “It's what everyone else would have done, had they been in my position.”

Lou gives a mock laugh: “Yeah, sure. I don't know about Chin, but I'd pretty much just have peed myself and cried for my mommy, at the most.”

Chin grins: “Same here. Now Kono, that's another story.” He turns serious again: “Honestly, Danny- credit where credit is due. You were amazing. HQ is flooded with gifts, by the way- since the ICU didn't allow flowers and stuff, it was all redirected.”

Danny's beet-red by now.

Steve stares at him: “Why didn't you put the plane down in the water? It's way less risky.”

Danny sighs: “I couldn't _risk_ you drowning, could I? What if I hadn't gotten you out fast enough?”

Steve's features soften at that. “You're such an idiot,” he says softly.

“Thank you,” Danny replies, but without any heat.

 

They don't talk much after Chin and Lou have left; from the looks of it, Steve is pondering matters, and Danny is tired.

He's almost dozed off when Steve finally speaks: “Danno?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you. For everything. For not letting me drown. For giving me your liver.”

“Half.”

“Whatever.”

Danny can hear Steve's eyes roll at that. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“I love you, you jerk.”

Slowly, Danny turns towards his partner, who is looking at him: “You're not mad at me? You reacted a little funny at first.”

Steve studies him: “It's a lot to take in.”

“Yeah. But Steve- I'd do it again if I had to. I can't lose you, ever.”

“I know. You're the best.”

“No, you're the best.”

They smile at one another.

“I wish we could share a bed instead of a room,” Steve then mutters; relief floods Danny's heart.

“They're going to send me home in a few days,” he says. “How about I'll sneak back in then?”

“Deal.”

 

 


	32. 2064

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Danny's combined age may be nearing 180 years, but they are still going strong.
> 
> (old age, slight melancholy, bit of fluff)

 

Juggling two large shopping bags, Grace lets herself into the house, pushing the door closed with her foot. It is quiet, and even though she chides herself for being silly, this silence always gives her the goosebumps these days. But she can spot her dad and Steve on the lanai, sitting in the old deckchairs. She takes the groceries into the kitchen and puts everything away before going outside: they are both napping, so she doesn't want to disturb them. She walks back inside and into the downstairs bedroom, which was built a few years ago when the stairs became unmanageable for the two old men. Grace thinks back to the heated discussions they had back then about chair lifts and assisted living facilities while she changes the bedlinen and cleans the bathroom; she's glad that they stayed here, in the old house in Piikoi Street. She wants them to be somewhere they feel at home for as long as possible.

By the time she's done, her dad has woken up and come inside: “Hello, Monkey,” he says as Grace kisses him: “Have you been here long?”

“Only half an hour or so,” she replies. He's never stopped calling her by her old nickname even though she's just turned 62; but then, she never stopped calling him 'Danno' either.

Danny's glances in Steve's direction, unaware that he's doing so, but Grace knows what he's thinking: before his stroke, he'd have heard her. Nowadays though, his reactions aren't as quick anymore, and he's not as perceptive as he once was. Most people would now point out that he's 88, after all, but Danny knows better: Steve's hearing is still excellent.

“How's he doing?” Grace asks softly. Steve's recovered well from his ordeal, but there are bad days in between.

“Okay. Went swimming this morning.”

“On his own?”

“Nah, of course not. Brandon came by.”

“Good,” Grace says, relieved; Brandon, Nahele's eldest son, is an avid swimmer and has offered to join Steve in order to keep an eye on him; if there's one thing Steve couldn't live without apart from his family, it's the ocean, after all.

“I brought some cake Clara made,” Grace then says.

“She baked? Don't tell me that putz she went out with left her?”

Grace sighs: “She left him. She's heartbroken about it nevertheless.”

“Tell her to drop by, yeah?” Danny says. “I'll teach her to bake my grandma's walnut bread.”

“Oh, you haven't made that in years!”

“Case in point. Best to pass the recipe on while I still can.” It's said in jest, but Grace quickly averts her gaze because she can't bear to hear something like that.

“I'll make some coffee, then,” Danny mutters, and Grace nods; she's learned not to offer to do it for him, that he needs to keep on top of all these little tasks in order not to feel old and useless. In the kitchen, she leans against the worktop and watches him; it's a little painful to see how much slower he moves around these days, how his hands sometimes tremble a little; he's always seemed strong to her, but recently, there's a frailty to him which is new or maybe just a little more pronounced than before. It scares her, because she herself has a hard time believing her own age, and the fact that her dad is going on 90 is unfeasible, just as the notion that he isn't always going to be around is.

While Danny is puttering around, Steve comes in; his face lights up as he sees Grace. He's a little lopsided since the stroke, but with the exception of certain days, he's still turning heads despite that, and his grip has gotten stronger again, judging from the hug he gives his quasi daughter. His speech however is a little slurred, therefore he doesn't talk much when there are other people than his ohana around. Luckily, he and Danny have long since mastered the art of silent communication, and apart from that, Danny has a way of not letting Steve getting too broody; always had.

Steve is now looking over his partner's shoulder: “Are you making the decaf?” he asks slowly, careful to pronounce every word clearly.

Danny turns his head towards him: “Of course. What sort of Neanderthal do you think I am?”

“Just checking.” With a grin, Steve winks at Grace, but he briefly puts his hand on Danny's back at that; always making sure they're good because every second counts these days.

Even though it pains Grace to know that they are thinking about these matters, she's also glad that their partnership has only gotten stronger over the years. While she's convinced, and that notion is almost unbearable, that neither of them will survive long if the other is gone one day, their bond has carried them through much hardship and tribulations.

Against all odds, they have grown old together and in relative health, therefore they cherish every moment, even though they bicker like they always did.

“Control freak,” Danny now mutters, but Grace can hear that there's no real heat behind it; it rather sounds affectionately, and Steve looks at him with what her dad always calls his goofy face.

For now, all is well.

 

 

 


	33. Weddings Bells #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The _worst_ ideas!
> 
> (humour, silliness)

 

 

“Hey, Danno?”

“Hm?”

“How about we don't wear rings but get tattoos instead?”

“Why?” 

“It's practical. And I like tattoos.”

“I know you do. And you've already got quite a lot of ink.”

“I sense a 'but' coming up.

“Yeah, well, thing is- apart from being the traditional sign of one's mutual commitment, a tattoo doesn't say 'he's taken, back off' just as a ring does.”

“ _Unless_ it literally says something like 'Property of Steve McGarrett'.”

“Now you're just being silly.”

Steve grins, winding his arms around Danny: “Yeah, I am.”

"So, no tattoos, okay?"

"If you absolutely don't want it..."

"I don't."

"Hm."

"Steven?"

"Yeah?"

"You better not come home with a tattoo saying 'Property of Danny Williams" or something like that."

"I wouldn't do that, Danno."

"Good."

"It'd simply say 'Danno's. _Back off_.'"

Danny just groans.

 

 

 


	34. Cherish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny's sick; Steve takes care of him.
> 
> (Fluff, slight angst, more fluff.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sick and had to take it out on someone. Well. At least poor Danno's got his Steve to take care of him whereas my dog, lovely as he is, hasn't quite gotten the hang of cooking...

 

 

Danny closes his eyes and really squeezes them shut in order to alleviate the burning for a moment; it doesn't help much, but he keeps them closed as he presses the heel of his hand against his skin; it feels as though something is trying to escape through his forehead. In combination with his sore throat and increasingly congested nose, none of this bodes well. Danny's tired too; Chin, Kono, Lou and he have been out and about all day, teaming up in pairs. They successfully raided -and therefore brought to a screeching halt- a drug-trafficking operation, and now it's past seven p.m. and there is one guy still waiting in rendition while Lou and Chin are already interrogating another.

“Boss?”

It's Kono, who looks exhausted as well- unsurprisingly so, since they've been at this case for days.

“Come in,” Danny croaks, clearing his throat.

“You sound awful.” She regards him with obvious concern: “Are you sure you shouldn't be going home?”

Danny shakes his head, immediately regretting the motion: “Nah. Steve just texted me, he'll be back soon. Better not leave that idiot to him.” He attempts a grin, which is cut short by a bout of coughs.

Playing along because both her bosses are too thick-headed for their own good, Kono inclines her head and rolls her eyes: “Okay. Call me if you need anything, I'm still following up the paper trail.”

“Thanks.”

With a sigh, Danny gets to his feet: no point in waiting any longer.

Steve has met up with (or rather _located and taken by surprise_ ) an old acquaintance on the big island who owed him a favour, and it's thanks to his intel that they were able to finally take the operation down.

Knowing his partner, Danny bets he'll be pissed off not to have been able to be in two places at once and participate in the raid. Well, at least he'll put all that pent up energy to good use in rendition, and not only to power his thousand yard stare. When he does that, putting his laser focus on one person, he usually appears taller and his muscles seem more pronounced. Or maybe Danny's running a slight fever. Anyway, he can't wait for his partner to take their suspects apart, just so as to have something else to remember this evening by than his budding cold.

 

When Steve arrives half an hour later, he'd indeed like nothing better than to storm into the room, grab the perp and hold him upside by his ankles until he's blue in the face because too many people are dead already, and he's taking this personal. He briefly pauses however, takes a deep breath and arranges his face. Best to assess the situation first, after all, and see how far Danny has gotten with the guy.

Turns out Danny hasn't gotten anywhere because his cold seems to have caught up with him; Steve can hear him coughing even as he opens the door. He nods at his partner, ignoring the other man in the room, and motions for Danny to come out into the hall for a moment.

“Hey,” he says softly once Danny's closed the door behind him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Danny croaks, clearing his throat. “'Course.”

“Liar,” Steve says affectionately, because Danny is pale, his eyes are bloodshot and glassy, and he is shivering a little. “You don't look okay.”

“My cold may have gotten a little worse since you last saw me,” Danny admits. “But I won't drop down dead any time soon, so can we please just get on with this?”

Steve regards him for a moment longer, then he nods: “'kay. What have we got so far?”

“Nothing from him. He just keeps grinning stupidly every time I cough. I thought I'd leave it to you to scare the living daylights out of him for once.”

“Good,” Steve rubs his hands. “It's exactly what I'm in the mood for.”

 

With an ex-Navy SEAL towering above him (and Steve definitely assumed the aura of a crouching tiger, which effectively wiped the stupid grin off the guy's face), it doesn't take too long to get results. Danny is so relieved that the day is finally coming to an end that he doesn't even mind how exactly they got there.

Lou and Chin were successful as well, but neither of them is in the mood to stay for a celebratory beer; they're all knackered, and Steve wants to take Danny home. Who is visibly flagging by now and grateful to get off his feet; he dozes off in the car even as Steve tells him about his informant. Steve sighs and pats Danny's thigh, eliciting an unintelligible mumble. He doesn't react at all when Steve stops at a drugstore a few minutes later.

At the house, Steve opens the passenger door and Danny's seat belt, then puts a gentle hand on his shoulder: “Danno, wake up.”

Blearily, Danny blinks at him, obviously confused.

“We're home,” Steve says. “Come on, I'll help you up.”

Danny leans heavily on his partner, and Steve steers them straight towards the stairs once they're inside.

Outside the bedroom however, Danny suddenly stops: “I'll sleep in the guest room,” he mutters. “Don't want to keep you awake.”

“Nonsense,” Steve objects. “I'm ready to drop like a stone anyway, and what if you need me?”

“But I'll cough-”

“Danno, relax. It's not a problem.”

“'kay. But don't say I didn't warn you.”

“I'll risk it.” Smiling goofily, Steve begins to unbutton Danny's shirt. Who looks down at his partner's hands: “What're you doing?”

“Undressing you.”

“I can undress myself.”

“You're sick.”

“Doesn't mean I can't use my hands.”

Steve leans forward and presses a kiss on Danny's forehead:“Let me just do it for you, okay?”

And Danny sags because it's actually nice to have someone else taking care of him: “'kay.”

 

He does wake up several times during the night, mostly because his nose is either clogged or running or, miraculously, both, and twice because he's coughing. Both times, Steve gets up, eyes mostly closed, and makes sure he takes some of the cough syrup he bought at the drugstore earlier.

When Steve's alarm goes off at six, Danny groans faintly but doesn't open his eyes; he's sleeping soundly now, and Steve slips out of bed silently in order to go swimming.

Danny's own alarm goes off half an hour later. It takes him a while to realize what the annoying sound means, and he's slightly dizzy once he's sat up. He feels terrible: his back is aching, his throat is sore, his nose is congested again and his head is throbbing and too hot somehow, but he scrambles to his feet nevertheless. In the bathroom, he turns on the shower and sheds his sweat-soaked clothes. The hot water feels wonderful though the dizziness is still there, and at one point, he has to support himself against the wall. Cautiously, he lowers himself down until he sort of crouches against the tiles, which is the best he can do without falling over.

The next thing he knows is a hand on his shoulder and Steve saying his name in a tone which is insistent and tremulous with worry at the same time. Danny wants to reassure him, tell him that he's okay, just needs a moment, but it's difficult to even open his eyes, he's just so tired.

“Danno, come on, look at me.”

He blinks at Steve, wondering why he's wet as well, and doesn't resist when his partner, after turning off the spray, helps him to get up and out of the tub. His legs feel like jelly, and he's glad that he can lean against Steve.

“You smell like the ocean,” he tells him, unaware how slurred his speech is.

Steve, who is wrapping him into a towel, gives him a forced smile: “Just came back from my swim, Danno.”

Danny hums in agreements and mutters something about seals or SEALs, Steve doesn't quite catch it. He's concerned because his partner seems a little out of it; his skin feels hot to the touch now, and he doesn't like how quickly the fever has developed. Or what it's doing with Danny.

Therefore, once Danny's back in bed, Steve heads downstairs, still only wearing his boardshorts, and makes a few phone calls. Danny's dozed off again when he comes back in, and Steve doesn't want to rouse him unnecessarily. He has called Chin to inform him that he'll be late, therefore he just puts on some dry clothes, sits down on the edge of the mattress and keeps his sleeping partner company.

 

Dr. Kekoa is the McGarrett's old family doctor, and he looks as though he should have retired years ago, but he walks up the stairs with a spring in his step that has Steve wondering what his secret might be.

Danny's responses are slow as he's being examined if not as sluggish as before; Dr. Kekoa is very thorough in his assessment and diagnoses him with the flu.

“The infection has progressed to be quite severe already,” he tells Steve in the hallway. “There's nothing I can prescribe now that will effectively shorten the duration. I'd advise you to get him some paracetamol however, to reduce the fever and provide some relief from the muscle aches. Apart from that- plenty of rest, plenty of fluids, no alcohol. And you know that I'm swearing by vinegar poultices and lime blossom tea.”

Steve nods; he vividly remembers. “He was a bit confused earlier,” he then says, his concern evident in his tone and the frown on his face.

Dr. Kekoa pats his shoulder: “Provided you keep him in bed and make sure he sweats the fever out, he'll be alright.” If anyone else had told Steve this, he'd probably take Danny to the emergency room nevertheless. But he's known Dr. Kekoa all his life, and the man knows what he's doing. If he says it's going to be alright, it will be.

Relieved, Steve shakes his hand:“Okay. Thank you, Doc.”

“You're welcome.” Dr. Kekoa smiles at him.

 

Once the doctor is gone, Steve returns to the bedroom with some paracetamol, then he goes to make some broth, which is the only thing Danny feels up to. He doesn't want to eat at all, but Steve convinces him that he needs something in his stomach.

He drinks about half of the mug, then hands it to Steve: “Thanks,” he mutters. “I'mma sleep. Can't go to work today.”

“You don't say.” Shaking his head affectionately, Steve pulls the covers up around him as Danny slides down the pillows; he's asleep within record time.

 

When Danny wakes up some indeterminate time later, Steve is sitting on a chair next to the bed, his elbows on his knees.

“Am I dying?” Danny croaks.

“No,” Steve regards him with a serious, slightly lopsided smile. “You're too stubborn to die.”

Danny coughs: “Then why're you sitting there? Like that?”

Steve hands him a glass of water: “I didn't want to wake you.”

“So you just waited? How long have you been sitting there?”

Steve doesn't answer. Instead, he looks helpless and forlorn in a way only Steve can look when he's overwhelmed by a situation, and Danny, despite his muzzy mind, understands. Steve's expression translates into something along the lines of _You scared me earlier. It reminded me of just how precious you are to me, and that I couldn't bear losing you. In fact, you're everything to me, and this love we have sometimes is almost too much for me to handle. It brings me to my knees while it also keeps me sane. You and me, Danno. It wasn't nearly enough so far, so don't ever leave me_.

“It's okay,” Danny therefore mutters, his voice still raspy. “You can stare at my sleeping beauty all day if you like, I don't mind. But don't you have to be at work?”

Steve looks at him affectionately: “I did my paperwork here, Chin sent me the files I needed.”

Danny feels a little dumbfounded: “Why, what time is it?”

“It's almost noon.”

“Oh.”

“I couldn't well leave you alone like this.” There it is again: all of Steve's issues, his fears of loss and abandonment, flit across his face before he checks himself. “How are you feeling?” he quickly asks.

Danny gives him a small, tired smile: “Somewhat steamrolled,” he murmurs. “Any chance I can take another pill?”

“If you eat something as well.”

“Eurgh.”

“Still. I've defrosted some chicken soup from my emergency stash.”

“You've got an emergency stash of frozen chicken soup?”

Steve looks sheepish at that: “It makes sense, doesn't it?”

“No, but it's very endearing that you think so,” Danny mutters, coughing again.

“I've also made tea for you,” Steve replies, ignoring his partner's last remark. “Can you sit up a bit?”

“Need to pee anyway.”

Slowly, Danny gets to his feet; he's steady enough this time and makes it to the bathroom under his own steam. Steve quickly changes the sheets because Danny's sweated a lot; when he comes back, the bed's already done.

“Flash McGarrett,” Danny murmurs. “Thank you, Babe. I also need a fresh shirt.”

“I've already put one out for you. And shorts.” Steve motions towards the dresser.

Danny snorts, amused, but he's actually grateful because being upright doesn't feel so good right now.

He's relieved when he's finally lying down again; his fever's still high enough to be uncomfortable, and his whole body aches with his back being the worst.

Steve makes him drink some of the tea, then he tucks him back in and caresses his cheek with the back of his fingers: “I'll go and heat up the soup. Anything else you need?”

Danny closes his eyes and turns his face into the touch: “Just you,” he murmurs. “Love you, Stevie.”

Steve smiles; since Charlie called him 'Stevie' pretty much from the beginning, he's gotten used to it- and now Danny's made it a habit to use this nickname as well once in a while. Strangely enough, it feels special when he does it- he calls everyone and his dog 'Babe', after all, but there's only one Steve in his life.

Who gently cups Danny's cheek now: “Love you too, Danno.” 

It takes Steve another few minutes before he can make himself leave the room and go downstairs.

 

 

 


	35. Socks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny's loud socks are just one of the many things that Steve finds amazing about him.
> 
> (Humour, banter, fluff.)

 

Ideally, coming home after a long, harrowing week with barely any time for breaks, not to mention sleep, would mean dropping onto the couch with a beer and some takeout. Or maybe throwing a few steaks on the grill and then collapsing onto the couch.

In reality though, as Steve and Danny drag themselves home on this particular night, there is laundry in various stages waiting for them: two near-to-overflowing baskets on the coffee table, another large heap on the couch. Whenever Danny and he had time to head home for a shower and change of clothes, they did one load because Steve'd have run out of clean shirts at one point; man, he really needs to go shopping. Too often, his shirts especially don't survive their cases and end up being beyond repair, or with lasting stains. Danny keeps mocking him about it, which Steve just shrugs off: if his job were less physically demanding, it'd probably be boring.

They pause after closing the door, looking at the stuff, then at each other: “Straight to bed?” Steve asks with a lopsided smile. For a moment, Danny seems tempted, but then he shakes his head: “Nah. It'll mock us in the morning.”

“Right now, I don't care about that.”

“But I do. Which is entirely your fault, by the way. Ordinarily, I'd just ignore it. Happily so, if I might add. Then, along came Mr. SuperSEAL with his control issues and compulsive need for tidiness-”

“It's not compulsive, it's just... logical.”

“Babe, you're tired. You're not making any sense.”

“I still know what I'm saying.”

“Obsessive-compulsive disorders are not logical.”

Steve rolls his eyes: “It's not a disorder, Danno! If you keep things neat, you waste less time looking for them.”

“Ha, that's where you're wrong. If your piles have a system, you know where to look.”

“Now you're not making any sense.”

“Yes, I am. And I'm starving. So how about I rustle us something up and you get started on that?” He nods towards the couch.

Steve crosses his arms in front of the chest: “Why do I have to start on it when I'm the one who'd just leave it be like this? 'Happily so, if I might add'?”

Danny turns around to him and leans against him, fully utilizing his smaller frame and looking up at Steve with an irresistible smile: “You think you're so cute!”

“I am.”

“True. But I'm the better cook. And I've heard your stomach rumble in the car.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. It sounded like something from Jurassic Park.”

“I'm pretty sure that's just the engine.” Steve returns the smile, because Danny, even pale from fatigue as he is, is adorable. So much so that Steve doesn't really mind that he's been played, and agrees.

 

With a beer and a sigh, he plunks down on the couch two minutes later while Danny busies himself in the kitchen. Steve somewhat half-heartedly begins to sort through the pile, starting with socks. Once he's done separating his and Danny's, he leans back, takes a long swig from his beer and grins. Danny's socks are a sight for sore eyes; as much as he refuses wearing too colourful shirts, his socks are a different matter. If anyone had shown them to Steve right after they'd met, he'd not have believed that they were Danny's at all: there are stripey ones, dotted ones, some with abstract patterns and one pair with the Jets' logo, a present from Grace. And all of them are garishly coloured. Loudly. Endearingly. And somewhat typical, because it just shows that Danny has so many more layers than one might expect at first.

He wouldn't budge when Steve first teased him about it: "You insisted on those ties, saying you wanted to look professional."

"So?"

"Your clowny socks are anything but."

"Doesn't matter, 'cause I'm wearing pants. And shoes."

"Your socks are still visible when you walk, or when you sit down."

"So?"

"People might laugh."

"I don't care. I like them. Grace likes them."

"If I were a suspect and saw those socks-"

"87 solved homicide cases in Jersey. I lost count of the number here, but I'm being told that we're quite successful, despite your frequent bouts of insanity. Not once, Steven, has anyone laughed at my socks."

"To your face."

"Unbelievable. I bet the only person who ever laughed about them are you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Everyone else sees my socks and thinks 'wow, what a cool guy, he can _so_ pull those off'."

"Challenge accepted."

So yeah, Steve has begun to wear Danny's socks from time to time.

With a fond grin thanks to that memory, he gets up and pads over to the kitchen, where Danny is making a stir-fry that smells heavenly. Winding his arms around him, Steve burrows his nose in his partner's neck: “You're the best,” he mutters into the warm skin.

Danny turns his head towards him as far as it goes: “Because you're starving?”

“That too. And because you're amazing. Your socks say so.”

Danny chuckles, shaking his head: “Told ya, you're so tired you stopped making sense.”

Steve just tightens his grip around him and inhales his scent, nose still firmly against Danny's neck: “As long as I know what I mean.”

 

 


	36. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny has a hangover.
> 
> (Fluff.)

 

Danny knows, even before he's properly awake, that he's had too much to drink. It's possible that he'll have to throw up if he moves at all, therefore he stays where he is and concentrates on blinking his eyes open. Which however is a spectacularly bad idea, judging from the daggers which the morning light sends through his skull. He groans and flops up an arm to hide his face, but that only serves to remind him of the queasiness which is still there. He only vaguely remembers how the night ended, but at least he's in his own bed. Steve's not there though; probably out swimming.

After a while, Danny very slowly manages to get vertical, then gets to his feet. For a moment, he sways; when the room stops seesawing, he pads over to the bathroom.

Which is where Steve finds him a little later: Danny is sitting on the edge of the tub, which seems a good place to be if one isn't sure about having to throw up or not.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Steve says brightly, at which Danny lifts his head and squints at him: “You're mean.”

Steve grins but crouches down in front of him: “That bad?”

“Go away.”

“Sorry.”

“Why did you let me drink so much?”

Steve, a little more serious now, shakes his head: “It wasn't even that much,” he says, his eyes roaming over his partner's hunched figure with affection. “You're just not used to it anymore.”

“Makes sense,” Danny concedes. “Next time, please knock me over the head if I have more than two beers. Or whisky.” He shudders.

Steve reaches up and gently cups his neck with his hand: “Okay.” He strokes Danny's skin with his thumb: “Anything I can do for you, Baby?”

“Nah. I'll just lie down again.”

“Okay. Come on.” Steve gently pulls him to his feet; tucking Danny under his arm, he walks him back to the bed.

With sloth speed, Danny tugs Steve's pillow over and on top of his own before he eases himself onto the mattress, his movements measured.

“I'll go have a shower,” Steve says.

Danny regards him from under half closed eyes: “On second thought- there's one thing you can do for me.”

“Hm?”

“Kiss me. You know. In case I'm dead once you're done showering.”

“What, so you're planning on dying within the next three minutes?”

“ _No_. But it might happen.”

With a sigh, Steve bends down and gently kisses him on his nose: “I'm planning on kissing you properly once you're feeling better. So I'm expecting you to still be here in three minutes, okay?”

Danny rolls his eyes: “'kay... that wasn't a proper goodbye kiss anyway.”

“Tiger breath,” Steve only says over his shoulder.

“Hm... I'll so get back to you on that one.” Danny closes his eyes and concentrates on Steve's scent on the pillow; when his partner returns from his shower a few minutes later, he has dozed off again.

 

 

 


	37. -phants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie has a night-time scare. Steve has a silly idea.
> 
> (Humour, domestic, fluff.)

 

Danny blinks, for a moment unsure why he's awake, but then he hears it again: “Danno!”

It's Charlie, calling for him in the middle of the night. So Danny disentangles himself from Steve, scrambles to his feet and pads over to Charlie's room, where he finds his son sitting up in bed, rigid with terror despite the small night light.

“Charlie? Hey, Squirrel, what's wrong?” Danny asks while he crawls onto the race car bed and pulls the little boy into his arms.

“I woke up and there was a strange noise.” Charlie sounds strangled, but he doesn't cry; he tries to be brave. He often wakes up in the night and is too afraid of the darkness to go back to sleep on his own; Danny and Rachel have tried to help him with it, have taught him little tricks such as trying to count backwards with closed eyes, or to try and not think of cute little puppies, and sometimes, they work. If it is as bad as this however, Charlie just shouts their respective names until they come and look after him.

Very gently, Danny rocks him: “Probably the wind,” he says softly. “They said it was going to pick up during the night.”

“It sounded really scary. Rolie thought so too.”

Danny smiles into Charlie's hair; Rolie is Charlie's stuffed elephant. “He did?”

“Yeah. We hid under the blanket, but it didn't help.”

“You were very brave, both of you,” Danny says. “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay.” With that, Danny gets out of the bed with Charlie in his arms and carries him over to his own bedroom.

 

Early on the following morning, Steve wakes up with a stuffed elephant in his face; Charlie, who is lying sprawled out between him and Danny, somehow managed to commandeer most of the available space. Which has happened before, and Steve knows from experience that he's lucky it's Rolie and not a flailing limb.

Careful not to wake anyone, Steve gets up, tiptoes around the bed and slides in on the other side, snuggling up with Danny and pushing him away from the edge of the mattress at the same time because he doesn't fancy falling off.

Danny is warm and sleep-soft as Steve burrows his nose into his neck and nuzzles his heavenly-scented skin; he grumbles something unintelligible but nestles against Steve nevertheless. Charlie sleeps on, oblivious of the small commotion, while his elephant has now got a whole pillow for himself.

As Steve settles and pushes one leg between Danny's because that is the best way to go to sleep- well, apart from Danny lying on top of him, which is kind of unparalleledly wonderful- he thinks that Rolie has thus become a _Trium_ phant.

Grinning to himself, he closes his eyes; maybe he should write children's books. He can already see Danny's incredulous expression when he'll tell him later.

 

 


	38. Deprivation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny's been away for a few days. 
> 
> (Romance, fluff.)

 

Steve is napping on the couch when Danny comes home; a rare occurrence. The man usually is a perpetual motion machine, and even if he's sitting down it doesn't mean he's able to relax as long as his mind is busy with something. He's learned a thing or two about relaxing ever since his partner moved in with him, but Danny is still surprised to find Steve asleep. Naturally, his first thought is that something's wrong. So he puts down his bags and crouches down next to the couch; he has been away for five days, chaperoning Grace's cheerleading squad at the Aloha Championships in Phoenix. Five long days during which he and Steve didn't talk on the phone as often as Danny'd have liked.

Steve doesn't look ill, but since he usually wakes up if Danny so much as glances in his direction and apparently didn't hear him either, he gently touches Steve's temple with the back of his fingers. His temperature seems normal too though; maybe he's just really tired.

Gently, Danny caresses Steve's cheek: “Hey, Babe.”

Steve makes a faint sound that goes straight into Danny's heart, then he grimaces and begins to blink. Danny rests his other hand on Steve's shoulder, waits for him to surface. When Steve finally opens his eyes, he stares at Danny groggily for a moment, but then his face lights up: “Danno!” he mutters, immediately reaching for him. So Danny joins him on the couch, lets Steve pull him close until their legs are entangled and their noses almost touch: “Hey, you,” Steve says softly, and the welcome home kiss is sweet and exactly what Danny needed.

He nuzzles Steve's lips with his own afterwards: “You okay, Stevie?” He doesn't need to explain what he means.

“Yeah. I just didn't sleep well these past few days.”

“How come?”

“The bed was too empty.”

Danny would have laughed, but Steve didn't sound like he was joking just now. “You big goof,” he says because he likes saying it and it's true. “I did leave my shirt under your pillow, didn't I?”

“Still.”

“Huh. I'm sorry, Babe.”

“'s okay. I'll simply never let you go anywhere without me ever again.”

“Huh. Well, next time Grace's squad has an outing, you're welcome to join us. Though it involves a lot of squealing.”

“You tired?”

“You bet. And I really need a shower.”

“Okay. I'll join you.”

“Yeah?”

“I meant it when I said I'll never let you go anywhere without me ever again.”

“Oh boy.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I knew what I was getting into, after all.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Grinning, Steve gently bites Danny's lip: “I heard you.”

“Lunatic.”

“Love you too.”

 

 

 


	39. Alterations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny gets an unexpected call from an old friend. 
> 
> (Friendship, romance, bit of emotional h/c. And fluff, of course.)

 

 

 

It's a quiet day for Five-0, eleven a.m. gone by already and no call to save Steve from the paperwork which has amounted during the past two weeks. Well. At least he can delegate most of it to the others.

“What?” he says innocently when Tani gives him an aggrieved look. “I'm busy with requisition. Gotta replenish our stocks.”

“Sure.” She sighs. “Get me some hand grenades while you're at it?”

With a grin, he returns to his office, glancing over at Danny on the way: his partner is on the phone and has been for some time now, his face so concentrated and serious that Steve can't but worry a little.

 

Danny doesn't even notice that he's being watched. When he answered his phone earlier, he was surprised to hear Amy Hanamoa's voice: “Danny, hi, it's Amy.”

“Amy! Hey! How are you?”

“I'm fine. You?”

“Same old. Little less hair.”

She chuckles: “I hope it's okay to be calling you at work...”

“No problem, there isn't much going on at the moment.”

“Okay, good... I'm sorry I didn't get in touch with you earlier, Danny.” It's been a while since they last talked.

“No pressure. It's nice to be hearing you now. How's Toronto?”

“It's great, actually. It was the right decision to move back here.” A few months after Meka's death, Amy moved back to her hometown in order to be near her parents; in Hawaii, her deceased husband was too present for her, she said she needed some distance. Danny understood, though he was concerned about her son; Billy settled in just fine, however, and whenever they talked on the phone, Amy sounded increasingly at ease.

“Listen,” she now said, “I'm calling you because there are some news. Good news. I'm... getting married again.”

For a moment, Danny was silent with the enormity of it: “Wow,” he then said. “Congratulations! Who's the lucky guy?”

“I met him at work. His name is Tom, and he's... he's a great guy. Gets along great with Billy, too.” She sounded hesitant, as though she was unsure what Danny'd make of this.

“I'm happy for you, Amy,” Danny said quietly. “I mean it. You've been through hell, you deserve to be happy.”

“Really?” She laughed a little, still with a nervous edge. “You don't think it's too soon?”

Danny's face softened: “It's been eight years,” he said in a low voice. “Don't you think Meka'd want you to be happy?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was thin now. “Perhaps.”

“I'm sure he would.”

Amy took an audible breath: “I still miss him, Danny.”

Danny briefly closed his eyes: to this day, the image of how his friend ended is still haunting him.

“I know,” he muttered. “Me too. But you're allowed to move on.”

They're silent for a moment, then Amy took another breath: “Thank you. I needed to hear that from someone who knew him. Who was there.”

Danny smiled even though she couldn't see it: “Anytime.”

Amy laughed again, less watery this time. “There's another reason I wanted to talk to you,” she then said. “If it's not too much to ask- I'd really like you to come to the wedding. It's only a small affair, our parents, my brother, a few close friends.”

Danny was momentarily taken aback: “Er... sure. If I can get off work... when is it?”

“February 9th, it's a Saturday.”

“What, next month?”

“Yeah. It's kinda spur of the moment. Oh, and you can bring someone, of course. If there is someone?”

Danny rubbed his forehead: “When did we last talk?”

“Uh... on my birthday, last year. So, March.”

“Huh. Well, yeah, there is someone.”

“But?”

“... It's a guy.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I don't know if that's what you had in mind when you said I could bring someone.”

Amy hesitated: “Danny- I really want you there. This guy you're with- is he making _you_ happy?”

Danny couldn't stop himself from smiling at that: “Yes. Yes, he is.”

“Good. Because back then, you were often looking sad when you thought people wouldn't notice. And I know you were lonely, despite Meka's valiant efforts to hook you up.”

Danny laughed quietly: “Oh God. He kept introducing me to all these women...”

“Yeah.” Amy sounded fond. “And you were too unhappy to go out with anyone.”

Danny took a breath.

“Yes, we noticed. So I'm really, really happy for you that you've found someone. To me, it doesn't matter if it's a man or a woman, and I sincerely doubt that anyone from our families and friends will have a problem with that. But if they do, I'll gladly kick their butts out of there.”

“Thank you,” Danny said, touched. “But Amy- I don't want to cause any trouble at your wedding.”

“You won't,” she replied. “I promise.”

Danny was still hesitant, but Amy insisted: “Please, think about it. You have exactly three days.”

Against his will, Danny smiled once more: “Okay. I'll call you back.”

 

Steve pretends to be elbows deep in paperwork when Danny comes into his office a little while later.

Danny sits down opposite of him: “You got a minute?”

“For you, I've even got two,” Steve replies with a smile.

Danny rolls his eyes at that: “Goof,” he mutters, but there's no heat behind it.

Steve regards him: “What's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong.” Danny leans forward and rests his elbows on his legs: “I just got a call from Amy Hanamoa. She's getting married again and invited me to the wedding.”

“That's nice of her. Isn't she living in Toronto?”

“Yeah. And I can bring a plus one.”

Steve raises his eyebrows: “Got anyone particular in mind?”

Danny sighs: “Yes, I'm thinking about asking Jerry.”

Steve makes a face at him, and Danny can't but grin. “Goof,” he then repeats, more soberly. “Thing is, Amy didn't know about us up until now. What if her family isn't cool with it? Or her fiancé's family? Or anyone else who's involved?”

“So you'd rather go alone?” Only someone who knows Steve as well as Danny does can detect the hint of insecurity in his tone.

“No, you silly old bear, of course not. Ever since that plane crash, I've sworn to myself that I'll never let you out of my sight again.”

Now Steve rolls his eyes.

Ignoring him, Danny waves his hand around: “I'm just saying that I don't want to cause any trouble. This is about Amy, after all.”

When he looks back at his partner, Steve is smiling softly at him: “I love you,” he murmurs.

Danny frowns: “Why, what did I say?”

“It's just... it's typically you. Being considerate.”

“What, you're not mocking me because I'm 'worrying too much'?”

“When did I ever just mock you because of that? I'm usually telling you straight to your face that you are! Eeyore.”

Danny purses his lips: “Yes, and most of the time it's entirely uncalled for.”

“Oh, is it?”

Before Danny can reply, the phone rings.

“Saved by the bell,” Steve mutters with a wink. Danny once more just rolls his eyes at him.

 

For the rest of the day, they are busy with a new case, therefore the topic of Amy Hanamoa's wedding doesn't come up again until that night after dinner: Danny is just doing the dishes when Steve winds his arms around him, resting his chin on his shoulder: “I'd love to go with you,” he says softly. “We could make a week out of it. Enjoy the snow.”

Danny turns around in his embrace so that he can look at him: “Really?”

“Well, there's got to be snow in February-”

“No, I meant- you really want to do this. A holiday together.”

Steve shrugs: “It's an eleven hour flight. Why not make the most of it?”

Danny smiles: “Sounds good, Babe. I'll talk to Amy. I want her to ask her family first, but if they're okay with it...”

Steve regards him with a serious smile in the corners of his mouth: “You're lovely, Danno,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss him.

Danny grumbles something unintelligible into the kiss, but doesn't protest otherwise.

 

There is snow, a wonderful, satisfying amount of it. Danny looks at the white landscape from the aircraft window as they descend and wishes he could dial time back to Christmas. Or that they could have taken the children along; he loved to go sledding with his dad when he was Charlie's age, and it never ceased. Grace got her first sled when she was two, and by the time they moved to Hawaii, it was well worn already.

Steve now leans over, his cheek almost touching Danny's, to look as well: “Good thing I brought my old long johns.”

Danny grins because he's so going to sing 'Men in Tights', then he sighs:“Can we go to Jersey for Christmas?” he asks softly.

Steve glances at him sideways; it isn't often that Danny allows his sentimental side to get the better of him, but right now, he's clearly homesick, even if it concerns a time of the year which is still ten months away. And maybe he's secretly been a little melancholy these past few days, because thinking about Meka and what happened to him was inevitable. And Danny isn't someone to just shake these things off. Therefore Steve leans in even closer until their cheeks do touch: “Sure,” he replies, equally soft. “That'd be nice.”

Danny doesn't say anything, just inhales his scent and feels around until he's found Steve's hand; he holds on to it tightly for the rest of the flight, grateful for his presence.

 

 

 


	40. Mourning an Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny can't sleep.
> 
> (Emotional h/c, sadness, fluff.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for S09e06 in this one! 
> 
> I wasn't able to watch it yet, this is based purely on the bonus sneak peek with Danny and Adam. Therefore, it also blissfully ignores Steve's arrest. Enjoy!

 

It's almost two in the morning and Danny is still awake. He's exhausted from the thoughts reeling around in his mind, keeping him from getting any rest, but he doesn't know how to turn them off. He's tried to focus on Steve's quiet breathing and even the ever present noise of the surf outside, but it didn't work. Neither did counting sheep.

Steve however sleeps soundly. Initially, he was wrapped around Danny as per usual, but he rolled away some time around midnight. Now he's lying on his side and even has the audacity to look peaceful. Danny wishes it was contagious.

Half an hour later, Steve stirs, then he slides off the mattress and staggers to the bathroom. He seems a bit more awake when he re-emerges; with smooth motions, he slips back under the covers and shimmies closer with the obvious intent to attach himself to his partner as firmly as he always does before going to sleep.

He pauses when Danny lifts his arm to accommodate him: “You awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“No.”

“Why, what's bothering you?”

Danny sighs: “The whole thing with Adam. And I just can't believe that Kono won't come back. I miss her.”

“Me too,” Steve says softly.

“It seems impossible that she broke up with him, after all the shit they've been through. She was so happy at her wedding...”

Steve hums his agreement; in his memory, two things about that day will always be standing out: the profound relief of survival after dropping the bomb into the ocean and Kono looking radiant in her wedding attire.

Danny's voice is low as he continues:“And I can't imagine how she's doing over there. How she's getting by without being able to go surfing. It's such a vital part of her, she's practically a fish. A dolphin, not even afraid of sharks. I don't think she's happy without it. It must be even worse for her than it was for you when you were away.”

Steve smiles into Danny's shirt because of course he is pondering things like that, worrying on the behalf of the people he loves.

“She's probably doing what you did after you moved here,” he then says. “What I did, after being sent off to boarding school. Just... hanging on by the teeth. Making it work from day to day.”

“I guess.” Danny sounds sad now.

They are silent for a while; Steve's hand finds its way underneath Danny's t-shirt and rubs gentle circles on his belly, which always soothes him.

 

“Steve,” Danny asks after a while, his breath ghosting over the other's forehead.

“Yeah?”

“Is it disloyal to Adam to wish for Kono to find someone?”

“'Course it isn't. You care about her, why wouldn't you?”

“Hm. I just hope she'll come across someone who'll appreciate her. What she's doing and why she's doing it. And at what cost.”

Once more, Steve smiles as he ponders this. “Like you came across me,” he murmurs, craning his head so that he can look at Danny in the twilight of the early dawn.

Danny's solemn expression softens as he considers this: “Maybe.”

Slowly, Steve props himself up on his elbow: “Don't worry,” he says, regarding Danny with an almost invisible quirk in the corner of his mouth. “She may be a dolphin in the water, but when she's ashore, she's a cat. And they always land on their feet, isn't that what people say?”

Danny's gaze wanders over Steve's face: “I love you,” he says softly, his voice gravelly.

Steve's smile widens: “Love you more,” he mutters and leans forwards for a kiss.

“Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?” he asks a little while later, when they are lying wrapped around one another and he can feel Danny's heartbeat against his own.

“No, thank you,” Danny replies, and he does sound a tad drowsy now. “I think I'll be fine.”

“Good,” Steve murmurs. “Though I have some great ideas. I'll save them for later.”

“Uh huh.”

“Good night, Danno.”

“Night, Babe.”

 

On the following evening, Danny calls Kono. She sounds as tired as he does, but it's good to hear her voice. She starts to cry even before Danny can tell her how sorry he is for her, for Adam, and his eyes are moist as well by the time she's calmed down. They talk for a long time afterwards, and it doesn't feel as though there are thousands of miles between them. And Kono still manages to convey a sense of hope at the end because she's so certain that she's doing the right thing and is exactly where she should be right now.

And while Danny thinks about their conversation and the irony of it all while he's getting ready for bed, rather early because he's so knackered, he's able to close his eyes and fall asleep not too long after that.

 

When Steve joins him a while later, Danny doesn't even wake up.

Tenderly, Steve kisses him: “You're the best,” he whispers as he burrows into him as close as possible, once more grateful to have this amazing guy in his life.

 

 

 


	41. Counting Mice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's bedtime story has unexpected consequences for Danny and Steve.
> 
> (Humour, banter, fluff.)

 

  

Steve has just finished cleaning up the kitchen after dinner when Charlie appears.

“Hey, Buddy, why are you still up?”

“Danno fell asleep while he was reading to me.”

Steve shakes his head: “Wasn't that supposed to be the other way round?”

“Yes. But I'm not tired yet.”

“Huh. So what do we do now?”

“I really want to know how the story ends, Stevie. Can you read it to me?”

Doing his best to hide a grin, Steve looks at his watch: “And what about Danno?”

“He can sleep in my bed, it's big enough for both of us.”

Inwardly, Steve sighs; he doesn't like to sleep alone.

 

Danny doesn't wake up when Steve gently takes the book out of his hands, just grumbles something under his breath and turns onto his side. Smiling, Steve regards him fondly for a moment, then pads over to the bedroom where Charlie is already waiting for him. They snuggle up, then Charlie shows Steve where they left off: “...and you have to count all the mice you can find on the page whenever the book says so.”

“Okay... now I understand why Danno fell asleep.”

“Why?”

“Because of all the counting. Some people count sheep if they can't sleep, ever hear of that?”

“No.”

“Well... that's because you're one of the lucky ones who fall asleep as soon as their heads hits the pillows.”

“Am not!”

“Are too. And you snore.”

Charlie giggles: “No, I don't!”

“You do! The first time I heard it, I thought someone was cutting down trees.”

Charlie is laughing really hard now: “You're making that up, Stevie!”

Steve grins and winks at him: “Maybe I do- maybe I don't. Anyway... we better get on with the story, it's getting late.”

 

Danny wakes up because of an earthquake. Which then turns into Charlie, who's shaking his arm: “You're lying on my blanket, Danno.”

Blinking and momentarily confused, Danny needs a moment to understand what's happening, then he pushes himself up so that Charlie can get under the covers: “Sorry,” he mutters groggily. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yes, but it's alright, Stevie read the rest of the story to me.”

“Oh, good.”

“And then he fell asleep too.”

“He did, huh? And why are you still awake?”

Charlie grins and shrugs, but he does look tired now.

“Give it a shot, okay?” Danny bends down to kiss him, then he tucks him in: “Good night, Squirrel.”

“Night, Danno.”

 

Steve blinks as Danny pushes the book aside and crawls on top of him: “Hm?”

“Hm yourself. I heard that that infernal book did you in as well.”

“Oh, yeah. Charlie okay?”

“Yeah. He'll probably dream of mice tonight.”

Steve chuckles: “As will I.”

Danny pushes his nose against his skin, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes: “Me too,” he mutters.

Steve wraps his arms around him: “At least I don't have to sleep alone now.”

“Racing car bed's cool though.”

“You wanna redecorate?”

Danny sighs: “Just wanna sleep.”

“Undress first, maybe?”

“No, lemme sleep.”

“Can _I_ take off my clothes?”

“No.”

“Brush my teeth?”

“No, shut up.”

“Danno-”

“I'mma count mice if you don't shut up.”

“'kay...”

“Hm.”

“Love you.”

“One...”

“Hey! That was _sweet_ of me!”

“Two...”

“Who'd have thought you're so crabby when you're tired...”

“Three...”

“I won't fall asleep just because you're counting, you know?”

“Maybe you should read that book to me.”

“Very funny. And I have to pee.”

“Tough luck. Not letting you up, you're the perfect pillow.”

“More like mattress.”

“Whatever... hey, hey, what are you doing?”

“Turning us sideways so I can get up.”

“Can't you just keep it in?”

“You're cute when you're Sleepy and Grumpy.”

“Did you just call me a dwarf?”

“ _Two_ dwarves.”

“Eurch.”

“Was that a real word?”

“No. But now I have to pee too,” Danny mutters as Steve helps him to his feet. “ And I'm _not_ a dwarf.”

Steve grins down on him: “Sure.”

“Giraffe.”

“Love you too...”

 

 

 


	42. Grounding Presence (S09e10 and e11)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for S09e10 and e11! Please don't read this one if you haven't seen it yet and don't want to know what's going to happen.

 

 

 

“Trying to grow a Brillo pad?” Danny's tone is light, but the way in which he regards Steve attentively is betraying his seemingly relaxed disposition. In fact, the least thing Danny feels like is joking, not when Steve looks like this, pain still raw and terrible in his expression. And he doesn't answer, doesn't ask questions, doesn't stop as he approaches, just walks right up to Danny, wraps his arms around him and holds on to him with all he's got. Danny can feel him trembling and his heart, which was already close to breaking at seeing Steve so vulnerable, so hurt, shatters into a myriad of small pieces when Steve speaks, just the one word: “Danno-” He breathes it into the skin of Danny's neck, his voice as brittle as his composure, and after that, it's possible that they both shed a few tears; it doesn't matter. What matters is that Danny's here now, that Steve can breathe again even though he still feels weighed down by his grief.

“I'm so sorry,” Danny eventually whispers into Steve's hair somewhere above his ear, “I'm so sorry.”

At that, Steve only tightens his grip around him, because Danny understands; he knows the kind of loss Steve is dealing with, can imagine how his partner is feeling. He doesn't let go for a very long time.

 

That night, after Steve has shown Danny around and introduced him to the horses, after they had a quiet dinner with Catherine, after he has shaven off the beard because yes, it was becoming a bit scruffy which he didn't even register until today, Steve crawls into Danny's arms with a small sigh of relief. He has lain awake the past few nights, thoughts reeling around in his head because he couldn't think clearly, felt overwhelmed by the silence and all that haunted him, but mostly because he didn't know what to do next, how to proceed at all. It was equally difficult to get out of bed in the mornings, and if it hadn't been for the horses who needed to be taken care of, he'd probably not have gotten up at all. But now that Danny's with him, it doesn't seem so impossible to look ahead anymore. There are a million things which need to be done, and he's going to make a list. And he knows that Danny will help him if loses track, and Danny won't hold it against him if he's not up to his usual form at first.

Apart from that, Danny is chasing the silence away just by being there. And now Steve wants to hear his voice, wants a distraction from everything which has been going on on his end.

“Tell me about Grace,” he murmurs, nestling against Danny, who pulls the heavy quilt up around them and makes a cocoon of warmth and safety; how Steve has missed his scent, the sensation of Danny's heartbeat beneath his ear.

Danny takes a moment: “Grace...,” he says, sounding contemplative. “Grace is ready to go out there, Stevie. You should have seen her... she's drinking it all in, loving all of it.” There's pride in his tone and love, and Steve feels himself relaxing as he listens to Danny talking about their college tour, his voice reverberating through his chest.

Tonight, Steve will be able to sleep, and tomorrow, they will face the next few steps together. Calmer than he has been ever since Joe passed away, Steve closes his eyes.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't seen season 9 yet because it's not yet available where I live, therefore this is purely based on the pictures which circulated once the teaser trailers for e11 aired, namely Danny coming to Montana and the hug.


	43. Ripple Effects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living together causes certain alterations...

 

 

Sleeping has changed for the better.

For Steve, it has never been more than a mere means to restore one's energy. He has always been able to lie down, put his arm over his eyes and nod off, something one learns when working in shifts and having to make the most of it. Danny on the other hand has never been good at falling asleep; usually, his mind's too occupied with all that is going on in his life, and unless he's ill or extremely exhausted, it takes him a while to power down. Sometimes, sleep eludes him entirely, resulting in crabbiness and fatigue on the following day.

Now that he's moved in with Steve however, the frequent insomnia and initial restlessness slowly begin to abate. Steve simply wraps himself around him in order to calm him down, preferably with Danny lying on top of him, and most of the time, it works. Sometimes they talk a little before dozing off, sometimes Danny just listens to his partner's heartbeat, enveloped in his scent; Steve has made it a habit to rub gentle circles on Danny's back, and the weight of his hand alone is something Danny misses whenever Steve's not there for some reason.

During the night, Danny habitually rolls away at one point because he likes to sleep on his belly. Steve usually follows him some time later; he turns on his side, pushes one leg between Danny's and snuggles up with him. Steve sleeps best with his nose against Danny's skin or, when he's wearing a shirt, his nose in the fabric of that.

Sometimes the nights are so hot and humid that physical contact isn't tolerable, but in the early hours of the morning, when the air has cooled down somewhat, Steve invariably drifts closer to Danny until he can press himself against him. If Danny's alert enough, he'll turn on his side and attach himself to Steve as well because he does miss him when they fall asleep lying next to one another instead of in a tangle of arms and legs.

Steve goes swimming on most mornings; Danny gets up some time later. On the weekends however, whenever they don't have the kids, Steve often crawls back into bed after his shower, and he doesn't have any qualms to wake Danny in creative and wonderful ways. Sometimes though he just pulls him close (“It's called manhandling, Steven,” Danny once growled, though he didn't really mind) so that he can hold him tight and be reminded of what a lucky, lucky bastard he is. When he tells Danny so on those occasions because his heart his full to bursting and he doesn't know what to do with all the affection, he gets a muttered, grumpy tirade about crazy people doing crazy things at ungodly hours while sane people just want to sleep, but then Danny snuggles against him with a contented sigh nevertheless, and all is well. And Steve closes his eyes, presses his nose in Danny's hair or against his skin, and goes back to sleep feeling almost ridiculously happy.

So now, sleeping isn't just a necessity for him anymore, something which kept him from more important things; it's something he's looking forward to nowadays. Because of Danny.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
